


In the Spotlight

by otherhawk



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, M/M, Obi-Wan Needs a Hug, Obi-Wan works very hard and is very tired, Poor Obi-Wan, Protective Anakin, Protective clones, Stalking, Unwanted Celebrity
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-19
Updated: 2019-01-24
Packaged: 2019-06-29 17:45:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 22,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15734331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/otherhawk/pseuds/otherhawk
Summary: Obi-Wan Kenobi is very handsome, very charming, and - thanks to the Republic propaganda machine during the Clone Wars - very famous. Sometimes those things combined lead to obsessions. Sometimes those obsessed want to get closer to the object of their dark affection.OR - Obi-Wan needs some sleep. What he has is a stalker.





	1. The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> Second ever fic in this fandom, and I mostly know where it's going. I'll try to update as often as possible, I promise. Hope you enjoy it.

The first message was obviously sent to him by mistake, Obi-Wan was sure of that. He'd returned to his quarters for a precious couple of hours rest between being released from medical and the forthcoming urgent council meeting, knowing that if he did something as foolish as actually sleeping he was just going to end up even more exhausted when he inevitably had to get up. In the end he decided to make a cup of tea and try to wade through his personal correspondence.

 The cup was warm between his hands. He breathed deep, closing his eyes as he listened to the messages. It was all more of the same; Bail requesting another meeting about the Cloned Sentients' Rights Bill; Feemor begging him to approach the rest of the council to get more support for the agricorp hydroponic ships, because eventually the war was going to be over, and they were going to have to rebuild, force-damnit Obi-Wan; Padme warning him that all the hard work he'd put into persuading the representative from Bacrides that they wanted to stay in the Republic was in danger of being under by the separatist victory in the Dianope Belt; the senate-mandated public relations expert - who he privately suspected was secretly employed by Dooku to torment him - asking for an inspiring statement and a couple of holos where he looked less tired; a few journal articles he was subscribed to and was never, ever going to get a chance to read; and finally a short message from an unknown sender.

It might be an anonymous tip-off – or a trap. It wouldn't be the first time for either. He leaned forwards and let it play, finding himself looking at a holo image of a golden zinnia tree in full bloom while a low, musical voice spoke.

“ _I saw this and thought of you. It reminded me of the wonderful evening we spent together. My life has lost all colour and meaning since you went away. I can only hope we will be together soon.”_

Obi-Wan blinked. Goodness, that was awkward. Evidently someone had the wrong comm code. He hoped they'd realised it and managed to get in contact with their lover, because he couldn't even send a message to let them know - all the sender details were missing, even the originating planet. An illicit affair, he imagined. The best he could say was that the voice had sounded male and was probably human. Oh, well. At least it was only a picture of some flowers and nothing less civilised.

Beautiful flowers as well.

With a chuckle he deleted the message and turned his attention back to his tea and to Padme's request.

 *

He received a dozen more of the messages during the siege of Bostyria; the same soft voice over holos of flowers or waterfalls or candles, the same lack of identifying details. The first few he deleted immediately, but there was a murky feeling of unease in the force, and he took to listening to all of them for anything that would help him pinpoint who the messages were intended for. They were in the middle of a war; people deserved to connect. Honestly, though, the man didn't seem to even notice that he wasn't getting any replies. Perhaps his intended was held up on the front lines.

There was much more to be concerned over though. There was still a large population of civilians here; they had to hold the city, but the separatists had them surrounded and their constant bombardment made it impossible to evacuate the wounded or send for reinforcements or more supplies. At least Anakin was in orbit, preventing any more separatists from landing, but on the ground it was a war of attrition. They were creating narrow holes in their defences, luring small groups of droids in at a time to be destroyed, and by all his calculations the separatists would run out of droids long before they ran out of supplies, but it was slow and with him the only Jedi on planet, it was exhausting.

Following a fight that had lasted sixteen hours, he took shelter from the rain beneath the wing of a tank and found himself playing one of the mystery holos on mute, watching vacantly as butterflies danced through the air.

“General,” Cody called as a series of footsteps crunched closer.

The force whispered a warning and he avoided banging his head as he sat up. “Yes, Commander.”

The footsteps paused, and a second later Cody was bending down to look at him. “Should I be warning the men to check beneath their vehicles for any sleeping Jedi?”

“In this rain I hardly imagine I'm the only one taking shelter where I can,” he pointed out, neatly rolling out and bouncing to his feet as though he was ready to fight for another full day. He didn't imagine Cody was fooled for a moment, but fortunately, with Waxer and Elsewhere standing right there, his loyal commander wasn't going to scold him. “What's going on?”

“Movement,” Cody answered laconically. “We've got three squads of clankers scouting along the river.”

Was it possible that after four weeks of the same tactics the droids had finally realised they were going to have to try something new if they were going to win? “Show me,” he ordered, cutting off his holo.

Waxer had been watching it. “What was that, General?”

He hesitated for a fraction of a second, really not wanting to explain that he was watching someone else's love letter, but that hadn't really been what Waxer had been asking about. “Giant jewel-winged butterflies, on Aenia, I believe” he said, as he followed Cody towards the city wall. “Every seven years or so they come together in a vast mating display that completely covers the sky, blocking out the sun for several days. I saw it many years ago as a young padawan.” He remembered standing with Qui-Gon on the shore, looking up at an ocean of colour spiralling overhead, his master smiling at the wonder and awe in his eyes, and for a moment the memory brought him a feeling of peace.

Waxer nodded slightly. “It's beautiful. Why does the war never take us anywhere nice?”

He could point out that many of the planets they had fought across had doubtless been extremely nice before they got there, but that was the first not-strictly-professional remark Waxer had made since Boil had been shot in the first attack, so he smiled instead and patted the clone's arm instead. “Maybe someday.”

“I hope not,” Elsewhere muttered behind them. “I hate bugs.”

“General Skywalker would tell you they are an excellent source of protein,” Obi-Wan said mischievously, glancing back over his shoulder.

Even behind the helmet he could picture Elsewhere's appalled expression. “Well, General Skywalker is...uh - “

“ - the droids are six klicks that way, sir,” Cody interrupted, though by the frost in his tone it was less him taking mercy on the trooper and more him deferring the chewing-out for a future date.

Obi-Wan nodded and looked out across the plain. Back to the war.

 *

The siege ended in victory for their side, and with a few days respite the Bostyrian provisional government insisted that they stayed for the celebration. Even now troopers mixed with civilians and as Obi-Wan leaned over the balustrade he could pick out gold, blue and maroon armour as the three battalions celebrated their victory.

Victory. And it only took six weeks and a few hundred lives. It didn't matter that all estimates had said the price would be far higher, the guilt and grief and loss were still threaded through his soul and no amount of meditation seemed to help him release those feelings any more. They were part of him; woven into his very force presence and now that Anakin, Ahsoka and Plo Koon were back on the planet he was careful to keep his shields solid.

Focus on the present. He was here with most of his men, with Anakin, Cody, Rex and Ahsoka, they had been successful, and he had a fine sunset and this rather nice honey wine to enjoy. And Waxer and Boil were reunited, swinging each other around in some sort of exuberant dance that the locals were trying to teach them. He smiled; hopefully the night wouldn't end in too many dance-related injuries. Those were always awkward to account for.

He felt Anakin approaching and sighed inwardly. He had hoped that this unlit and out-of-the-way terrace would give him peace for a little while at least.

“What are you doing creeping off by yourself, master?” Anakin's voice was carefully cheerful, a sure sign that this wasn't a chance encounter.

“Enjoying the silence,” he said dryly, as the other joined him, looking down across the square. It wasn't altogether a lie. He was still half waiting to hear the bombardment start up again and the peace from the constant cannon fire was as unsettling as it was welcome.

Anakin was looking at him. He carefully kept his expression placid and waited for his former padawan to grow restless. “Cody said it was bad down here.”

That caused a pang somewhere deep in his chest. He'd need to try and make sure Cody got some downtime. In the last few days of the siege there had been little chance for either of them to rest, and he'd be willing to bet that Cody had carried on working since then. The man worked too hard and there was no-one better, he was irreplaceable. But the anxiety Anakin was feeling was aimed at him, so he smiled. “I'm fine. I just wanted to take a few minutes.”

There was an awkward silence. “A few minutes?” Anakin said at last.

He turned to look quickly, frowning at the worried look on his former padawan's face. “What?”

“You've been gone nearly two hours. I was getting concerned.”

Ah. He must have lost track of time along the way. He smiled reassuringly. “I'm fine, Anakin.”

Unsurprisingly, Anakin didn't seem convinced. “Are you sure? Because if you want to go and get some sleep, I can cover for you.”

He didn't even let himself consider the temptation. “I said I'm fine. Now, did anyone seem to notice my absence?”

“I heard a couple of journalists asking the prime minister about it,” Anakin admitted. 

And that was everyone he most wanted to be convinced that everything was running smoothly. “ _Acting_ prime minister, Anakin,” he said with a sigh. “The Bostyrians are very particular about proper titles and protocol.” Just because they had saved this planet from invasion didn't mean that it couldn't all be ruined by the wrong word falling in the wrong ear.

“Right.” Anakin rolled his eyes. “ _Acting_ prime minister. Well, _General_ Kenobi, we had best get back to the party then. We can't have the great Negotiator missing out on his own victory celebrations, can we?”

He winced a little, once he was certain Anakin's back was turned. That was his proper title now, wasn't it? General, not Master. All his life he'd struggled to be worthy of titles – Padawan, Knight, Master – and now the one hung round his neck, the one he was famous for, was the one he would never have wished for. He remembered when few outside the Order had even heard his name, when he was recognisable only as a Jedi, one among thousands. People asked for Jedi help and a Jedi was sent; impersonal, interchangeable. Now his face was plastered over holoboards the length of the galaxy. Younglings pretended to be him while play-fighting, and he wished he could say it didn't bother him. Wished he could treat it with true Jedi dispassion...but he hated it. He hated it and it made him sick to his stomach.

Focus on the present, he reminded himself again. None of that was important right now. What mattered was that he get back to charming the prime minister and the rest of the provisional government so that they would put pressure on the Bostyrian senator to support the Cloned Sentients' Rights Bill.

He ignored the dull throbbing in his head with the ease of long practice.

 *

Being back on the Negotiator was a relief. Having over a week in hyperspace until their next destination was even more so. He'd finished his reports, he'd sent all the supply requisitions, he'd done an initial read through of the paperwork for their next mission, he'd eaten in the mess hall with his men, and now there was nothing else he absolutely _needed_ to do for at least twelve hours. He was going to sleep, meditate and enjoy a water shower, not necessarily in that order. Six days in hyperspace. He might even have a chance to show Cody the next series of katas, and he smiled at the thought as he lay back on his bunk.

There was another message from the mysterious sender, and with a guilty start he realised he was hoping it would show animals again. Honestly, he was taking advantage of this situation - if he wanted to indulge himself he should just find the time to catch up on some nature documentaries. Decided, and a little embarrassed, he made to delete the message without playing it, only to pause at a sudden scream of warning in the force.

He paused, confused. What harm could there be in _not_ listening to a message that wasn't for him? It didn't make sense. And yet the force continued to be insistent and agitated.

Well, he followed the will of the force, and with a shrug he pressed play and lay down to watch another idyllic scene, this one of water flowing over smooth pebbles, while that same musical voice washed over him.

“ _I saw you on the news today. Congratulations on your victory in Bostyria – I hope you're taking a few days to rest and relax. Everyone is so very impressed with you, my clever one, and I am so very proud but I can't help but worry. Are you looking after yourself? They all expect so much of you. Please, for my sake, don't push yourself so hard. Until we meet again, my Obi.”_

The agitation in the force reached a crescendo as he sat bolt upright, staring at the holo as he played the message over again.

 


	2. Escalation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I'm really shocked and delighted by the reaction to this so far. Hope you enjoy this chapter too.

A week of nothing but hyperspace travel really was too good to be true, Cody thought grimly, as he leaned out into the corridor, taking careful aim at the pirates mobbed around the barricade. Oh, maybe other units could spend a week travelling, resting up, running drills, maybe even doing a full inventory of supplies, but the 212 didn’t get to enjoy that sort of boredom. No, they somehow managed to drop out of hyperspace at precisely the right time and place to pick up a distress signal from a decrepit transport, full of war refugees and in the process of being boarded by pirates.

Of course they went after it. What else were they going to do? Leave?

A flash of blue darted over his shoulder, and he saw Obi-Wan deflecting a stray blaster bolt that would otherwise have caught Drifter right in the chest.

“Careful, vod,” he admonished his reckless brother, even as Drifter rolled to the other side of the corridor, taking three more shots in quick succession.

“Don’t worry. I knew the General had my back,” Drifter called back.

Cody clenched his jaw. They were supposed to protect their Jedi, not the other way around. If they took General Kenobi’s skills for granted, what would happen on missions when he wasn’t there?

Somewhere ahead of them a child screamed. Kriff, the pirates had hostages.

“Don’t take unnecessary risks,” Obi-Wan ordered, as he stepped directly out into the corridor. Cody rolled his eyes, knowing it couldn’t be seen, and followed, quickly signing for the rest of the squad to lay down covering fire.

He might not have force-enhanced speed, but he could sprint with the best of them and he stayed only a few steps behind as they raced along the corridor, Obi-Wan deflecting all the blaster fire before it could reach them. They blew through the barricade in a practised dance, Obi-Wan spinning to keep them covered the whole way, Cody staying behind and firing through the gaps, noting with professional satisfaction each pirate who fell, and then they were around the corner, the sounds of battle continuing behind them as they moved up closer to where the scream must have come from.

Obi-Wan smiled at him. “And you complain Drifter has too much faith in me,” he teased.

He wouldn’t be moved. “It’s never a question of faith, sir.” He knew what he was doing, knew Obi-Wan could cover him and knew there was no way on any planet that he was going to let his Jedi run ahead alone if he could keep up.

They moved as one up towards the airlock where the transport was connected to the pirate ship. There were four pirates standing outside, one of them holding onto a small mon calamari child, her eyes wide and terrified as the chakaar held a blaster to her head. On the corridor on the other side Cody caught a glimpse of the ship’s crew, hanging back, obviously reluctant to intervene, as long as the child was in danger.

“That’s far enough, Jedi,” spat the apparent leader, a blaster-waving rodian. Cody estimated it would take less then a second to take him down – if it wasn’t for the hostage.

The sounds of blaster fire from behind them had stopped. He didn’t look round, but he carefully started making hand signs behind his back. It was a strain to hear the quiet footsteps and quieter voices, but he was confident his brothers were there and following his instructions.

“Your orders, General,” he said out loud, and the words were empty, just a code phrase to get Obi-Wan to focus his senses on him for a moment while he loudly asked for a distraction in his head.

Obi-Wan deactivated his lightsabre and stepped forwards, his hands loosely in the air. “Really, I’m curious as to where you’re going with this. You have to know that you are surrounded by the entire Third System Army right now. You can’t possibly think you can escape.”

The rodian snarled. “As long as we have the youngling, we hold all the cards here. You Jedi are weak. You’re not going to risk hurting the wretch.”

“Well, that’s certainly true. Hello, young one,” Obi-Wan added with a broad smile. “Still, is one small child really worth making enemies of the entire Grand Army of the Republic? Wouldn’t, say, a Jedi Master be a better hostage instead?”

Cody gritted his teeth, reminding himself to discuss with his Jedi again exactly what was, and was _not,_ an appropriate distraction.

“You think I’m stupid?” the pirate demanded. “I don’t have force suppressors just lying around, how do I know you wouldn’t just escape and kill us all?”

“You have my word,” Obi-Wan offered. “And I’m sure there’s a lot more of you than there is of me.”

Thankfully at that point a small explosion rocked the ships. That would be The Negotiator disabling the pirate ship’s hyperdrive, just as he’d ordered. And that meant he could step forwards and take four shots while the pirates were distracted, while at the exact same moment Obi-Wan leapt into the air, using the force to pull the little girl towards him and twisting round to put his back between her and any blaster fire.

There was no need; Cody’s aim was good and an instant later all four pirates were on the ground.

“Nicely done, Commander,” Obi-Wan called, standing up and letting the child run off to be snatched up by her waiting parents.

The captain – or maybe the leader of the refugees – came rushing out of the corridor towards them. “Thank you! I thought we were all going to be killed. Oh, Master Jedi, I can’t thank you enough.”

“Of course,” Obi-Wan said, inclining his head, and Cody groaned inwardly, because here came the moment when they offered to take the refugees aboard and get them settled. “My men will make sure your ship is clear then we’ll see you on your way.”

Wait, what?

The woman seemed happy enough with that, calling orders back to her own people, making sure they were safe and the ship was undamaged, but Cody was still disturbed.

“Is there something wrong with them, sir?” he asked in a low voice, later, as they prepared to disembark.

Obi-Wan looked startled. “No. Why would you think that?”

“You’re normally more…” He struggled for the right word. “Helpful,” he settled on at last, cringing at the flash of sadness that crossed Obi-Wan’s face.

“Well, I have been informed that I’m too much of a soft touch,” Obi-Wan said stiffly. “By you, among others, Commander.”

That was true, and he dreaded the day someone took advantage of his Jedi’s compassion, but… “Did something happen, Obi-Wan?”

“Everything’s fine, Cody. Don’t worry about it.”

*

 

The messages continued and Obi-Wan wasn't quite sure how to react. He grew to dread the moments they dropped out of hyperspace, checking his messages almost obsessively, waiting for that cloying voice.

“... _I wish I could take you far away from the war, somewhere your beauty and grace would truly be appreciated...”_

“ _...No one understands me like you do, of course. No one ever could...”_

“ _...You aren't like other people. You're all that matters to me...”_

He had to listen. Even though the words felt like spindly fingers creeping down his spine. The messages had been for him the whole time and he felt beyond foolish. Should he have realised from the start? The mystery sender had seemed to be talking to someone he knew well, he hadn't even introduced himself or offered some remembrance of where they might have met, but Obi-Wan didn't recognise the voice at all. It could be disguised, of course, but why would someone he knew well do that?

Who even among those he knew well could he imagine sending those sort of messages? He hadn't had a relationship that could be described as intimate in years.

He tried to meditate on it all, but he found he kept on going around in circles, the force murky and uncertain. Tiredly, he reached up and rubbed at his beard. Alright. Think this through. The sender had his personal comm codes. He knew him well enough to send him holo images that he enjoyed. He spoke as if they had spent time together before and would do so again. He spoke possessively and felt entitled to use a nickname that hardly anyone called him by.

Put like that it _had_ to be someone he knew at least a little. Definitely not a clone. Surely not another Jedi. But he did meet a lot of people... 

His comm codes should narrow it down, but unfortunately he had to admit to himself that those might be more widely available than they should be. The number of times he had given his contact details to someone he'd helped, promising that he'd be there for anything they needed in the future – well, he certainly hadn't been counting. Anakin had always scolded him for it, rolling his eyes in exasperation and warning him that some day someone was going to get the wrong idea, or take advantage of him. 

Getting the wrong idea...force, he hoped not. But that was the most likely explanation here. He had often been accused of flirting – mostly by Anakin – and to be fair, sometimes he was, but a lot of the time he was just taking a genuine interest in people, in their lives and experiences. And now he was faced with the idea that maybe someone had seen that and they'd taken it as something more meaningful than it was – that he'd led them on, even unknowingly. There was a heavy feeling of shame taking root in his chest. He wished he could figure out who this was so they could talk and he could explain – apologise.

So what was he supposed to do now? There was still nothing to let him reach out. For the moment he would just have to endure and hop that his mystery admirer moved on. 

Reaching Coruscant was something of a relief. Cody had been looking at him differently since they'd left the refugees. The idea of being 'less helpful' was awful, but just in the moment he'd found himself wondering if this was the kind of conversation he'd had with the mystery admirer and he'd just wanted to keep his distance. There was nothing wrong with that. The refugees were safe; his detachment didn't hurt them. ( _Did it hurt him?_ )

At any rate he left Cody to handle the resupply while he headed to the Temple to deal with some council business. Once, at any given time most of the Jedi Council would have been temple-bound. Now, with the war, they were scattered all over the galaxy, but the Order went on. Those padawans entering knighthood deserved to have their achievements witnessed by more than a few tired and distracted long-distance holos, those coming back from long and difficult missions deserved to have their stories heard, those faltering, lost and confused, deserved the Council's full attention – and they didn't get it. Not anymore.

He, Yoda and Oppo Rancisis were the only council members present on Coruscant. Shaak Ti, Plo Koon and Depa Billaba were there through holo, but that still only made six of them. When he'd been a padawan, standing behind Qui-Gon during a Council session he rarely remembered there being less than ten council members present. Now, he would be shipping out tomorrow, and Master Rancisis was only here because he was technically still on medical leave. Everything had changed in the last few years. 

Was he the only one who wondered just how this was the new normal? 

The session went on long into the evening, discussions moving between Jedi matters to war strategy and back as though there was no difference. 

“Troubled, you are,” Yoda observed as they were leaving the council chamber. 

“Aren't we all these days?” he said lightly. 

“Hmmm.” Yoda stopped and gazed at him for a long moment, beady eyes fixed on his face. “Have dinner with me you will.” 

He hesitated for a moment, thinking of all the things he should be doing, all the work he'd left Cody with. 

“Unless better offer you have?” Yoda added archly. “See you too seldom I do. Saw you more when you were a crechling than I do now we serve on the same Council.” 

There was that centuries of experience in placing guilt trips on hapless Jedi showing. “I would be honoured,” he said politely. 

Yoda snorted. “Honoured I do not want. Relaxed, I would prefer.” 

Honestly, he did feel a little more relaxed after dinner spent in Yoda's company, drinking tea and talking about obscure philosophy and ancient history, and that lasted until he got back to his rooms and found three packages waiting for him, sitting innocuously by his door, clearly labelled “Obi-Wan Kenobi, care of the Jedi Temple.” 

With a feeling of dread he carried them inside and laid them on the table. There were no sender details and, judging by the dates on them, they'd been sent several weeks apart, and he tried to tell himself that he didn't  _know_ they'd been sent by his mystery sender. But really, who else? 

Enough of this. They were here, and that meant that they had cleared Temple security so, if nothing else, they weren't dangerous. And there was nothing inherently sinister about sending things to the Temple expecting they would find him eventually. He was a Jedi. Of course he could be reached at the Temple, everyone in the galaxy probably knew that. Besides, nothing that the sender had said so far had given any indication of hostile intent. The man was simply...misguided. And persistent. That was all. It wasn't anything to worry about. 

Taking a deep breath he carefully opened the packages one at a time. A small, copper relief of a zinnia tree. A packet of candied fruits from Alderaan. A thick, soft blanket embroidered with flower garlands and other symbols of love and devotion. None of them had any messages attached and he wondered if that was better or worse. From a certain point of view, there was no expectations being laid here, just gifts that he might even call thoughtful. He ran his hand over the blanket and tried not to think about how much warmer it would be than the standard-issue blanket on his bunk on the Negotiator. 

“Master! I only just found out that you were on Coruscant!” 

Anakin. Who, of course, hadn't hesitated before walking straight into Obi-Wan's rooms – not that he wanted him to, he'd told his former apprentice more than once that his door was always open. 

“Anakin,” he said turning around with a smile. “It's late, I wasn't expecting to see you.” He almost added that he'd assumed Anakin would be spending the night with his wife but thankfully remembered to hold his tongue. 

“I heard you were only here for one day and I wanted to see you.” 

“Why, of course, we haven't seen each other in nearly seven days,” he said with a smirk. “How I've missed you.” 

“If I didn't think you meant it, I might be hurt,” Anakin said, walking past him huffily. Of course, he spotted the gifts, the wrapping still lying around them. “Oh – have you finally been spending your stipend on frivolous luxuries like the rest of us?” 

“My stipend is spent on tea and Corellian brandy as well you know,” he said firmly, walking around and trying to shove the gifts out of sight. “Speaking of which, would you like some tea?” 

Unfortunately, Anakin could be very observant. “No, really, where did this come from? I mean, I suppose I can imagine you buying the candy, but what's this bronze thing? And the blanket...” He trailed off, and Obi-Wan occupied himself with the tea kettle. “Master, is someone trying to  _court you_ ?” 

Obi-Wan wondered whether or not he should be insulted by that sharp tone of incredulity. He carefully didn't look round. “Nonsense,” he said. “It's nothing, just a few things that were wrongly delivered.” 

Naturally, Anakin wasn't listening. “I want to meet her. Or him. Them.” 

“Who?” he asked patiently. 

“Whoever's sending you gifts!” 

Yes. So would Obi-Wan. “You're getting worked up over nothing, Anakin. I told you, it's just a mistake. I'll be donating them to the quartermaster in the morning.” That was the safest thing to do. The gifts could be taken as a kindness and see good use, but he wouldn't have to feel guilty about using them himself under any kind of false pretences. 

“If you say so,” Anakin looked doubtful as he settled down at the table. “I will have a cup of tea, thank you, but then I have to, uh, go and finish my report.” 

The report that he had, no doubt, left in Senator Amidala's apartment. Still, he would gladly enjoy a little time with his friend. He took a deep breath, and let all the doubt and unease go for the moment. 

Surprisingly, this had been a good day. 

 


	3. Exacerbate

He woke up slowly, the taste of bacta clinging to his tongue. There were voices but they seemed to be coming from somewhere far away. He tried to reach out with the force but that sent a searing spike of pain through his head, and he groaned and turned his face to the side, pushing deeper into a pillow. Clearly he was lying on a medical bed somewhere. Oh, force.

He opened his eyes a crack to confirm. The Halls of Healing back at the Temple. Not even on the Negotiator – whatever had happened must have been significant.

“Master Kenobi? Can you hear me? Obi-Wan?”

Vokara Che. Foggily he blinked up at her, taking vague note of the grim line of her mouth. She'd told him once when he'd been much younger that he was going to drive her into an early grave.

“Obi-Wan?” She repeated his name and he realised she was probably looking for an answer.

“'m fine,” he managed.

“You've told me that six times in the last few days and invariably you've passed out a moment later,” she told him.

Oh. He couldn't remember. “Head injury?”

She nodded. “Head injury, moderate burns, respiratory system damage and a bad case of force exhaustion.”

“When?”

“You had better mean 'When did I get here' and not 'When can I get back to the front lines',” she warned him.

Both. Either. He attempted to affect a look of innocence as she checked his pupils and

“You've been in bacta for six days – four aboard the Negotiator and another two here,” she told him with a sigh. “We took you out of the tank this morning.”

“What happened? I was on Agrora...?” He thought that was right anyway. “Are my troops alright?”

She gave him a look that was half exasperated, half apologetic. “I'm not sure, I'm sorry, but your Commander was here earlier – I'll send him in to you.”

Good. Good. He fell asleep again for a while and when he woke up Cody was sitting beside his bed.

“General,” he said on seeing Obi-Wan looking at him. “You're looking better.”

He raised an eyebrow, thinking about just how awful he felt. “I'm rather glad I didn't have to look at myself before then.”

Cody nodded. “We would all appreciate it if you didn't scare us like that again. Sir.”

He didn't offer any promises he couldn't keep. “How is everyone? I don't remember anything from when we landed on Agrora.”

A shadow crossed Cody's face. “You were injured three days in. We lost Coil, Hammer and Kurst along with five shinies. Other than that, a handful of injuries but none as bad as you.” His jaw tightened. “I've seen what you did. It's all over the holo news. You deliberately put yourself between Void company and that tank, and when it exploded you shielded them from the explosion and let it hit you.”

“I don't remember,” he said without a hint of apology. “And you wouldn't scold an injured man for something he doesn't remember, would you, Commander?”

“If I thought you would listen I just might,” Cody said, a hint of heat in his voice. “You can't throw your life away, Obi-Wan. Not for us.”

“Your lives are just as precious as any other,” he said, reaching out and grabbing Cody's hand. “I'm sorry, Cody. I never meant to hurt you.”

“I know that,” Cody said with a sigh. “Just...do me a favour. Don't insist on being sent back to the front lines before you're ready. Please. General Skywalker has taken over at Agrora, and we're being sent back out to reinforce them in the next few days.”

He hesitated, the idea of his friends fighting without him had never sat comfortably with him, but eventually he nodded. “Very well, I promise. Now, Void company. Is everyone alright? Lacey? Dane?”

He lay back on the bed, taking comfort in Cody's voice telling him about their men.

*

It was three more days before he was released from the Halls to his quarters, still hurting and exhausted and under strict orders to stick to light duties. And that was only because Master Che didn't think she could take him off duty completely without him rebelling and causing trouble. Honestly, he wasn't sure she had noticed he wasn't a padawan any more but a member of the high council. Or, more likely, it just didn't make a difference to her. She'd labelled him as a troublemaker before he could walk and the passing decades weren't going to change her mind.

It was a relief to get back to his quarters, but it was a shock to find out that Cody hadn't been exaggerating when he'd said this latest incident was all over the holonet. He had a dozen messages waiting for him from his friends...and a dozen more from his admirer.

“ _My Obi – I saw the news. Are you alright? Please be alright. I don't know how I could survive without you. How could you do this to me? I need you! You can't throw your life away like that, and certainly not for a few clones. I love your compassion so much, but they're not real people, you have to know that. They don't matter the way you do._

_Not that anyone matters the way you do._

_I want to take you far away from here. Somewhere you can relax and be safe._

_Soon, my love. Soon. I promise.”_

For a moment his anger burned white hot and it was a considerable effort to release it into the force.

How could he say that? How can anyone say that? The vode mattered. Force, they hadn't chosen any of this. _He_ was the only one in the battalion who had actually had a free choice to sacrifice his life in the service of the galaxy, and he'd made that choice a long time ago. They mattered more. They deserved so much more and he wished he knew who this 'admirer' was so he could explain that at length.

He spent a few hours meditating on the situation and finally reached a solution – one he should have settled on a long time ago, perhaps.

The 212 were shipping out in the morning, so he walked down to the clone barracks, pretending to himself that his wounds weren't aching, and grabbed the first communications specialist he saw – Whiskers, a nervous clone with a set of muttonchops that made him look a decade older than his brothers.

“Ah, Whiskers, good man,” he said with a genial smile. “I wonder if I might impose on you for a favour?”

Whiskers blinked rapidly. “Of course, General, anything you need.”

“It's nothing much,” he said reassuringly. “I just want all unknown senders blocked from messaging me.”

“Of course,” Whiskers said at once, then hesitated. “Um. Can I ask...have you been having problems, General?”

“Would you believe that I keep getting irate messages from a Hutt who thinks I owe him an asteroid?” he said with a laugh. It wasn't technically a lie, though it had been a while since Turka had bothered him thankfully. “Not that there's any need to spread that around.”

“Of course, General,” Whiskers said, standing to attention. “I'll take care of it. You can count on me.”

He smiled warmly. “I know I can.”

“Can what?” Cody asked, materialising at his elbow.

“There you are, Cody. I was wondering whether you and any of the men would like to join me for lunch?” he asked hopefully. “I have a hankering for something other than rations or the gruel they serve in the halls.”

Cody smiled at him. “Of course, sir, although I'm not sure we can fit the entire battalion inside Dex's diner.”

He shrugged. “We can certainly try.”

*

Looking on the bright side, light duties meant he had more time to work with Bail on the Cloned Sentient Rights Bill over the next week or so. If they were going to push it through the Senate this time the language had to be perfect. There couldn't be anything for the more militant-minded senators to latch onto.

He walked through the Bansing Gardens on his way to meet Bail for dinner and to hammer out some more details. Compared to the beauty of the gardens in the Temple the park was nothing special, but it did have the one thing the Temple lacked – people. Normal people going about their day-to-day lives with all their passions and excitement.

He kept his hood up. Jedi were hardly an unusual sight round here and he passed unnoticed as a group of adolescent wookies sprinted past, laughing and howling. He turned his head and smiled after them, automatically avoiding a rather adorable twi'lek couple who had paused a little too long to gaze lovingly into each other's eyes. It was good to see life continue on even through the war.

“Master Jedi?”

He turned around at the feeling of someone tugging on his sleeve and saw a young boy holding a garland of golden zinnia flowers.

“Your friend told me to give you these.”

The flowers were thrust into his hands and he grabbed them to keep them from falling. Zinnia flowers. Again. His mouth was dry as he looked around quickly. “My friend? What did he look like? Where did he go?”

The child shrugged at him, frowning. “He was just a man. I didn't see his face. And he went that way, Master Jedi.”

Obi-Wan patted the child on the shoulder as he hurried off in the direction indicated. “Thank you, youngling.”

His admirer had been here. Had been watching him? It seemed unfathomable. He hadn't felt anyone watching him, but he was still recovering from the force exhaustion, and in the press of Coruscant he could have missed it. Still he reached out with all his senses, feeling the traces of the burning on the edges of his mind. There was something...maybe? Someone. And then it was gone and he was pressing his hand to his forehead, trying to contain the headache.

There was no one he recognised around. No one looking at him and no one avoiding looking at him.

He looked down at the flowers in his hand. This was taking on new dimensions and he wasn't sure how he was supposed to react. How did he make it stop?

Uncertain he carried on walking to dinner.

Naturally Bail looked askance when he walked in with the flower garland. “For me? You shouldn’t have.”

“I can assure you I didn’t,” he retorted sitting down and pulling out the datapads with his notes.

Bail’s look changed to one of concern. “Is everything alright?”

He hesitated for a moment. Bail had been a public figure for a number of years now – he might have some insight to offer.

“Obi-Wan? We can do this some other time if you need to. I know you’re not fully recovered yet.”

“As soon as I’m recovered I’ll be shipping out again,” he pointed out wryly. “And we’ll need to go back to depending on the holonet.” As though he hadn’t had enough of holo messages lately. “No, this is too important. Please, Bail.” There was little that mattered more than safeguarding the rights of the clones. Certainly not his own issues.

The server droid came by and they ordered food and by the time it arrived they were deep in the technicalities of legislative strategy.

They were sitting out on the terrace overlooking Basning Gardens, the Senate Building lit up in the distance and the lights of the city planet towering around them. Looking out and over the park he felt a shiver of unease, wondering if his admirer was still out there, watching him. It made him feel uncomfortable. Exposed. As if he didn’t already feel that way, coming out of a war zone. Natural caution, force warning or hypervigilance – it was getting difficult to tell the difference.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Bail asked, when they reached a natural break. “You seem a little distracted.”

He smiled faintly. “It’s that natural Jedi mystique.”

Bail wasn’t put off. “If there’s anything I can help with…”

Abruptly, he made a decision. “Actually, I would like some advice, if you wouldn’t mind?”

“Of course, anything,” Bail said with audible relief. “What’s the problem?”

“It’s a personal matter,” he stressed. “Have you ever had to discourage an admirer?”

Bail had always been quick on the uptake. “Ah. The flowers.” They were laying on the table, obtrusive and awkward.

He felt a stab of shame at this whole ridiculous situation, at his need to ask for help. “Yes.”

“Well, it sounds like you need to talk to this person. What did you say when they gave you the flowers?”

And now this became even more embarrassing. “He didn’t directly approach…I don’t actually know who it is.”

Frowning, Bail leaned forwards. “Wait. What? Start from the beginning.”

He explained – briefly, and giving as little detail as he thought he could get away with – the messages and the gifts, and then the encounter this evening. “I suppose he must have been waiting for me outside of the Temple. I did leave by the main entrance – he possibly just got lucky.”

Bail was staring at him, concern written deep in his eyes. “Obi-Wan…that’s not an ‘admirer’, that’s a stalker.”

He sighed. “Be serious.”

“You’re the one not taking this seriously,” Bail snapped. “I know the Jedi have provided security for senators under similar circumstances. I know _you personally_ have – “

“ – they were under threat,” he protested. “Afraid, perfectly reasonably. I hardly feel threatened by any of this.”

“Of course you don’t,” Bail said resignedly. “But tell me this. If I or Senator Amidala were receiving messages like this – if someone was watching our homes and following us – would your advice be to ignore it? What does Knight Skywalker think of all this?”

He winced a little, imagining Anakin’s reaction. As much as he loved his former padawan, Anakin did tend to overreact to anything he saw as a threat. He cleared his throat. “Yes, well. I haven’t mentioned this to Anakin. Really, Bail, I’m just looking for some way to gently dissuade this…person.”

Bail shook his head grimly. “Honestly, I think that could be dangerous. From everything I know stalkers don’t tend to handle rejection well.” He sighed and patted Obi-Wan’s hand awkwardly, in the manner of one offering comfort without being sure of its reception. “I think you need to report this. At the very least, have this person identified and investigated – and stop walking around Coruscant on your own.”

“Bail…” He shook his head, smiling slightly. “I appreciate your concern, I do, but even if I were to believe that all this constitutes a threat I’m a general in the middle of a war. There are many who want me dead. Honestly, people have been trying to kill me since I was twelve, I don’t tend to worry about it much.”

“If that’s your position then you won’t mind telling the rest of the Council about this. Or your troops, for that matter.” Bail tapped on his datapad meaningful. “From everything I’ve seen they’re as fond of you as you are of them.”

“I will tell them if it becomes necessary,” he offered. He really didn’t want to have those conversations. Whatever Bail said, this wasn’t a problem. Now that the messages were blocked this whole thing would probably burn itself out, there was no sense in worrying anyone about it. “Now, let’s get back to work, okay?”

*

Cody stared at Whiskers for a long moment. “Run that by me again, vod?”

Whiskers raised his chin, his weight shifting from one foot to the other. “General Kenobi asked me to block any messages from unknown receivers before we left Coruscant, Commander. I followed the order but, um, I also set up an intercept for any such messages that _would_ have been sent to the General.” His face took on a guilty expression and his eyes darted from side to side. “I know that’s strictly illegal and against regulation, and I shouldn’t have done it, but the General said something to suggest that there was a Hutt harassing him, and I was concerned…and, well, the intercept picked up _this_ when we dropped out of hyperspace, sir.”

Cody looked at _this._ A holo image of Obi-Wan and Senator Organa apparently at dinner, a garland of flowers lying on the table beside them. Senator Organa had seemingly taken Obi-Wan’s hand, and Obi-Wan was smiling at him, and all of that was just fine, and none of his business, until he pressed the button and let that _voice_ speak again.

“… _you kriffing traitor! I would have given you everything, Obi! I would have treated you like you deserve! And instead you run off to spend time with that piece of shit? How could you? How dare you? I – “_

He cut the message off again.

“That didn’t sound like a Hutt, sir,” Whiskers ventured.

“No,” Cody said distantly, his jaw clenched tight. He didn’t recognise the voice. Didn’t know just who it was in Obi-Wan’s life that was behaving this outrageously, but he was going to put a stop to it. With extreme prejudice, if necessary.

Obi-Wan should have told him. How could he and his vod protect their Jedi if they didn’t know where the threat was coming from?

“I need to make put some calls through to Coruscant,” he told Whiskers. “Top priority.”

“Of course, sir,” Whiskers said, looking relieved.

It hurt being kept in the dark.

He let the message play again.

“ _I’m going to show you. You need me, and I’m going to show you just how much I love you.”_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you wanna come talk to me on tumblr I'm anotherhawk on there.


	4. Conversations 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter took a while - and that it's shorter than I anticipated. I changed it around so many times that eventually I decided to post the first half and make the second half it's own chapter. Eh, it made sense at the time.

Somewhere along the line the sound of his comm going off had begun to send a shiver of unease and revulsion up his spine, which was ridiculous, he knew; the messages from his admirer had been blocked. Of course in this case that moment of dread could have been because he was deep in the heart of the archives when his comm sounded and Jocasta Nu had _rules._

It was Cody though, so he glanced quickly around to make sure no one was within earshot and took the call. “Commander. Is everything alright?” 

Cody wasn't wearing his helmet which at least meant that there was no immediate danger. It also meant that Obi-Wan could perfectly see the thunderous expression on his commander's face. “I need to know who he is. Sir.” 

Briefly he considered feigning ignorance before deciding it was sadly a lost cause. “How did you find out?” 

“That's classified.” 

“Ah,” he sighed. “Whiskers. Of course. I'm not angry.” 

Cody looked at him stolidly. “He did exactly what he was supposed to do. He uncovered a threat to his general and reported it to the nearest superior officer.” 

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow. “I could point out that he shouldn't have been intercepting my messages.” 

“But you won't,” Cody returned. “Because you're not angry and because good soldiers show initiative. Also, sir, if you don't want someone to worry making up a story about Hutt being after you probably isn't the best way of going about it.” 

“No, that part was true, just not recent,” he said, probably unwisely. 

There was a long pause while Cody glared at him. “Alright. Let's focus on one threat at a time. Who is this man?” 

“I'm afraid I really don't know,” he confessed. “I don't recognise the voice and nothing he has said made me think of anyone I'm familiar with.” 

Cody drew a sharp breath. “That's...concerning.” 

“I understand you're worried, but I really don't think this constitutes a threat, Cody,” he tried reassuringly. “A few overly-familiar messages and some unwanted gifts aren't - “

“ \- he took a holo of you and Senator Organa, sir,” Cody interrupted. “Through a viewfinder by the looks of things. He's following you, sir. And when he saw you acting friendly towards Senator Organa his reaction was decidedly hostile.” 

Oh. That was a new development. He pursed his lips – being followed yesterday had been upsetting but he still hadn't regarded this as anything more than a misunderstanding. If he could only explain...

“This man believes he has a relationship with you. He's clearly delusional and we have to assume he's dangerous,” Cody said quietly. “You said he'd sent you gifts.” 

Obi-Wan nodded. “A few trinkets, care of the Temple, and some flowers delivered by a youngling last night. Cody, I appreciate your concerns and your warnings, but I will be on my guard from now on. Though it would perhaps be best if Whiskers would be so kind as to undo what he did? I don't want to risk missing any inkling of danger.” 

“Agreed,” Cody said with a crisp nod. “And for the duration you'll be escorted by a squad of troopers everywhere you go.” 

He smiled slightly. “I hardly think that's necessary.” 

Cody's face was implacable. 

“You've already give the order, haven't you?” he sighed. 

“I can't be on planet to protect you, General. At least let my brothers do it. Trooper armour should scare this hut'uun away.” 

“Very well,” he agreed. “Since I have no doubt that if I attempted to countermand your order the channel would experience sudden technical difficulties.” 

Cody noticeably relaxed. “Good soldiers take initiative, sir.” 

“Quite. Hopefully this will all be for nothing. I am optimistic that the healers will see fit to send me back to you within the week.” 

“Can't say I'm not looking forward to that, sir,” Cody said, the smile apparent in his eyes. “Not that I'd ever say anything against General Skywalker - “

“ \- oh, Force forbid - ” 

“ \- but I do wish you'd managed to teach him that there's more plans than just 'attack'.” 

Obi-Wan felt his lips twitch. “Be fair. Sometimes he attacks from multiple directions at once.” 

“And I'm sure we're all very proud,” Cody rejoined. 

*

“ _I might have overreacted last time. I was angry with you. I'm still angry with you. I thought we had an understanding. But I really feel that if we could just talk again we could sort all of this out. If I could explain what you mean to me, I know you would understand and I could forgive you...”_

*

It wasn't particularly unusual for Bail Organa to stop by Padme's office; they did a lot of work together for their faction. And sure enough on this occasion Bail came in carrying the usual stack of datapads but he seemed to have something else on his mind.

“You're still on good terms with Knight Skywalker, aren't you?”

She kept smiling, momentarily frozen inside. Did Bail know about her marriage? He wasn't from Naboo, so she couldn't imagine that it would concern him. “Why, yes, I've been friends with Anakin for years.”

“Good. Good.” Bail drummed his fingers pointedly on top of a datapad, and Padme glanced at it to see the language for the Cloned Sentients Right's Bill that he'd been working on with Obi-Wan. “So I had dinner with a mutual friend last night who asked me for some advice on a personal matter which I found concerning.”

They had many mutual colleagues and acquaintances, but 'friends' was a strong word in politics, and between the mention of Anakin and the Bill there was really no question in her mind who he was talking about. “Oh? Is everything alright?” she asked, trying to match his discretion even as her mind raced with anxiety. She knew Master Kenobi was on medical leave and she knew, from Anakin, that he didn't tend to handle that gracefully. She remembered more than one distraught call that included the phrase 'He was supposed to be in bacta, Padme! Where did he go?'

“Apparently he's attracted the attention of a stalker,” Bail said, his mouth a thin line. “That's my word, not his. He doesn't see it as a problem. I advised him to tell the...his peers about it, but you know him. Stubborn as a gundark. I'm not sure he's going to follow my advice.”

Ah. She nodded understandingly. “It would be good if someone could warn those closest to him that he might be in trouble,” she suggested.

“Exactly,” Bail agreed, a look of relief on his face.

Once he'd left and she was alone she commed Anakin immediately. Thankfully he was actually able to answer this time. “Knight Skywalker,” she said formally.

“I'm alone, Angel,” he assured her. “It's so good to see your face.”

She felt her heart skip a beat at the devotion in his eyes. “It's good to see you too, Ani,” she said fervently. “I've missed you.”

He held his hand out towards her. “I don't have long to talk, I'm sorry,”

“That's okay. I'm afraid I was calling you for a reason anyway. When was the last time you spoke to Obi-Wan?”

“I managed to talk to him briefly after he was hurt, or after he woke up, I mean,” he said, frowning. “He said everything was fine. Why? Have you seen him? Did he say something?”

Of course he said everything was fine. Padme had a working theory that being connected in the Force meant that you just didn't bother actually _talking_ to each other. “I haven't seen him but a friend of mine has, and apparently he's got a stalker.”

“Someone's stalking him?” Anakin blinked, and he started to smile. “Is it a padawan? I bet it's a padawan.”

“No,” she said urgently - patiently. “Someone outside the Order. I think anyway. He doesn't know who but they're on Coruscant and they're following him.”

“What?” All amusement had vanished from Anakin's face. His eyes were blazing. “Why didn't he tell me? What are the Council doing about it?” There was a shout from somewhere and he turned his head quickly and cursed. “I have to go.”

“But you'll talk to him?” she said quickly.

“Oh, I'll talk to him,” Anakin promised grimly. “Love you, Angel. I need to go.”

“Love you too, Ani,” she said into nothingness.

*

“ _...I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said those things. You just drive me crazy sometimes. You're too compassionate and that makes it easy for those snakes in the Senate to take advantage of you. I worry about what you might do. You need me to protect you...”_

_*_

The sting of it all was that there was always people watching him now, especially on Coruscant. There was one of those accursed holoboards across from the transit station near Dex's; the one where Anakin was brooding and _he_ looked insufferably smug; and he'd seen a group of teenagers giggling and taking holo pictures in front of it. And those same people saw him in person and pointed and stared and giggled, and how could he know who he should be worrying about?

He felt someone's gaze on him walking from the Temple, felt a stirring of resolution and determination in the Force, and he casually placed his hand on his lightsaber only to turn around and see a soft-eyed Twi'lek woman smiling at him. “Master Kenobi,” she greeted him in twi'leki. “I wanted to thank you. My sister and her family live on Ryloth - She told me what you did, and when I saw you I had to tell you how much your efforts meant.”

Ashamed by his paranoia he smiled back at her and answered in the same language. “Of course. I hope the war has not affected your family too badly.”

“It is what it is,” she said, a sad expression crossing her face. “They are rebuilding the village and they have their lives, thanks to you. We support the Jedi, and we always will. I bid you good day, Master Kenobi.”

“May the Force be with you,” he replied, and she smiled as though he had offered some great blessing.

There were others looking now. More beings had recognised him and he sighed internally and walked on. As long as his admirer didn't have malevolent intentions – or at least didn't see his own intentions as malevolent – Obi-Wan very much doubted he would be able to sense him with the Force.

Of course there were other options he thought, glancing up towards the white armour-clad figures watching him from the walkway above. Cody was as impressive as always. From deep in the mid rim he'd managed to make sure that Obi-Wan had at least six troopers following him every time he set foot outside the Temple, always at just enough of a distance that he couldn't just turn around and order them to leave. He could, of course, lose them, but that seemed a little petty...and when he'd tried he'd found another squad had taken their place almost immediately.

And maybe Cody was right. Maybe the obvious escort was enough to dissuade his admirer from approaching. The only problem with that was that it seemed a temporary solution; he needed to know who his admirer was in order to end this. That was why he was out here instead of just hiding away in the Temple.

With a sigh he walked round the corridor on the way to the transport to the lower levels, and, when he was round the corner, ducked into an alley and jumped onto the walkway above, waiting until the clone troopers came round the corner before stepping out of the shadows. They were all wearing plain white armour, but they were obviously no shinies. Obi-Wan even recognised the leader.

“Hello there, Lieutenant Wakka. I don't suppose you happen to have noticed anyone watching me? Apart from you and your brothers, I mean.”

Obviously surprised, Wakka saluted automatically. “General Kenobi, sir. No definite sightings, but we've identified a few persons of suspicion. Reports have been sent to Commander Cody.”

“Yes, well, I think you could also send them to me,” Obi-Wan suggested dryly. “Since I'm the one being followed.”

“Of course, sir,” Wakka agreed, raising his comm unit and sending the reports. Obi-Wan could review them later; hopefully that would spark something.

“Why the blank armour?” he asked curiously, wondering if it was so that he couldn't know which clones he had to order to stand down. “You know you're all distinct in the Force. Any Jedi can recognise someone they know, regardless of what they look like.”

“I wasn't expecting you to remember me, sir,” Wakka said. “But honestly, we've found that civilians find shinies more intimidating on sight. Something about the white armour frightens them.”

That was interesting; he'd need to remember that for the future. “Of course I remember you.” They hadn't spoken, but he'd been part of Commander Bly's squad on Ryloth. He'd been badly injured and transferred away from the front – Obi-Wan remembered Aayla Secura desperately calling for the healers. “How's your leg?”

“Still stiff, sir,” Wakka admitted. “But I can fight, don't you worry about that.”

“I wasn't,” he smiled. “Thank you for the reports. I'm heading down to the food market on the lower level. There's a bakery there that makes mooncakes I'm rather partial to. Why don't you all join me?”

He could tell that Wakka and the others weren't exactly enthusiastic. No doubt from their point of view protecting him in the lower levels of Coruscant would be that much more difficult. Still, he wanted more opportunities to spy out his admirer – and he wanted to pick up some more bulk packs of seasonings for the mess sergeants back aboard the Negotiator. There had been some Mandalorian dried spices the last time, and seeing the delight in his men's eyes was one of his cherished memories.

It was as he was walking around the market that his comm sounded again. He tensed up as he checked it, that familiar revulsion trickling through him, but thankfully it wasn't his admirer. Unfortunately it was Anakin.

He stepped back into a handy alcove. “Anakin, is everything alright?”

Anakin was glaring directly at him. “You tell me, Obi-Wan. What's this I hear about someone following you. What's he done? Has he threatened you? What are you doing about it?”

Now, how had Anakin even heard about all this? He was sure Cody wouldn't have told him. “It's nothing to worry about, Anakin,” he soothed. “Honestly, it's just a personal matter. I promise I'm taking precautions.”

The scowl deepened. “You should have told me, Master. Those gifts I saw in your apartment – were they from this sleemo?”

“Yes,” he admitted. “But a few trinkets are hardly threatening, now are they?”

“He knows where you live,” Anakin pointed out darkly. “He's following you. We need to put a stop to this before he gets any ideas - I've seen what this sort of obsession can lead to.”

He kept his expression mild as he folded his hands inside his sleeves. “I am hardly an easy target, Anakin.”

Unsurprisingly, he was ignored. “If you need me, I can jump on a ship and be back with you in four days. Three if I push it.”

“No,” he said firmly. “You have your duty. You can't just abandon that because you think I might be in trouble.” Anakin opened his mouth to argue, but Obi-Wan pressed on. “Need I remind you that currently you are in charge of my men, as well as your own? I expect you to look after them. I _need_ you to look after them.”

“Of course, Obi-Wan,” Anakin said sullenly.

“I do appreciate your concern,” he added with a small smile. “And I promise you, I'm not being reckless. Cody has seen fit to make sure that I always have a squad escorting me.”

Rather than being reassured Anakin seemed to grow even more unhappy. “You told Cody but not me?”

Force give him strength... “I didn't tell either of you,” he said with infinite patience. “You both found out of your own accord and you're both overreacting, but I am prepared to humour you.”

“Well, good,” Anakin said, rolling his eyes obviously. “Please, Master, continue to humour us by not being horrifically murdered.”

“I really don't think...” he began and then paused, frowning as he felt a faint whisper in the Force. “Anakin, I'll get back to you later,” he said absently, ending the call over his former padawan's protests. He stepped back out of the alcove, noting Wakka and his men over on the other side of the market. There was something...he'd seen something...

He closed his eyes for a brief moment, letting the Force flow through him, and then he looked up at the walkways criss-crossing the marketplace and found himself staring directly into a vaguely familiar face.

An unremarkable looking man, with a round face and curly brown hair, but Obi-Wan knew he'd met him somewhere before, knew they'd spoken even if he couldn't remember when or where, and now, looking up into that intense stare, he knew that this was his mysterious admirer.

He offered a nod and a slight smile, hoping that would encourage the man to stay where he was, and started striding towards him. Immediately the man turned tail and headed deeper into the crowd, vanishing from Obi-Wan's sight. Quickly trying to follow, he jumped up from one catwalk to the next, ignoring the cries of shock and alarm from the people around him, trying to catch another glimpse of his admirer.

It was no use; he'd gone. Still, at least now he had a face to try and put a name to.

*

“... _seeing you smile at me today made my heart sing. I wish I'd been able to meet with you like you wanted, but it isn't time. Not yet. Soon, though. Soon, my love, we will be together.”_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope that was okay, if anyone wants to ask me anything or just come talk, I'm anotherhawk on Tumblr.


	5. Conversations 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am really sorry about how long this has taken! There were a couple of sections that just wouldn't work the way I wanted them to. I can only apologise and hope it's worth the wait.

It felt good to be back at the Temple, Mace thought. Before the war he had looked forward to those times when his duties as Master of the Order had allowed him to go on extended missions.Now he was away for months at the time and he longed for the serenity that the Temple offered – even half empty as it was.

He and the 187th had just come away from a three month siege on Kraytu and he was eager for some rest both for himself and for his men. They should have at least a couple of weeks. Time enough for the injured to heal, the weary to rest and for him to catch up on his more neglected council duties.

He was surprised then when Ponds came to find him on the evening of the first day on planet. Not that he wasn't pleased to see him, but he would have thought his commander would be enjoying the break. “Do you need something? Are the men alright?”

“We're all fine, sir, don't worry about us.”

And there was a slight hesitation there, and an emphasis on _us_ that Mace just knew was going to give him a headache. “Who should I be worrying about?” 

Ponds paused again. “Commander Cody is very worried about General Kenobi.”

It was decidedly unJedi-like to roll his eyes so Mace didn't. “I'm fairly certain that Commander Cody was  _ decanted  _ worrying about Kenobi.” Not that he blamed the poor man. The Jedi High Council had been worrying about Obi-Wan Kenobi since long before the clones had ever been thought of.

“Not to the extent of having a squad of troopers follow him on Coruscant, sir.”

That gave him pause. He'd known Kenobi was in the Temple of course, but aside from the Council meeting this afternoon they hadn't had a chance to catch up. Obi-Wan certainly hadn't given any indication that anything was wrong.

Ponds was looking at him with just a hint of reproach. “If there's a threat to the Jedi Council we would appreciate being kept informed so we can work to best protect you.”

If there was a threat to the Council  _ Mace  _ would appreciate being kept informed. “I'm afraid you know more than me,” he admitted. “What were Commander Cody's orders exactly?” 

“I don't know the exact details,” Ponds admitted. “Just what the men have observed. I tried questioning the troopers involved in this protection detail but apparently Cody ordered them not to discuss the matter.”

Mace raised an eyebrow. “Couldn't you countermand those orders?”

Ponds gave him another look. “Cody outranks me. He's the highest ranked vod in the GAR.”

Ah. Mace had been vaguely aware that Kenobi kept promoting his commander but he hadn't fully appreciated...he wondered if Ponds would like a promotion or two. He supposed he could go and talk to the troopers in question, provided Kenobi hadn't yet managed to arrange it so that Cody outranked  _ him,  _ but really it would probably be best to check if the Temple Guard was aware and then go and discuss the matter with Master Kenobi himself. At length, if necessary.

*

“ _...I keep thinking of your smile and the tiredness in your eyes. I'm not sure how much longer we can go on like this...”_

  
  


Cody vaguely wondered whether he'd be able to get a few days leave in order to fly back to Coruscant and shake some sense into his Jedi. “You acknowledged him. You smiled at him,” he said leadenly.

The tiny holo image of Obi-Wan lifted his chin, and he was absently pleased to note that the bruises were gone now. “I was attempting to focus his attention on me for long enough that I could reach him.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. Hard. “Sir, I might not have much experience with all this but I'm pretty sure you're not supposed to encourage your stalker to focus on you.” He didn't need this. The battle for Agrora was going well enough, but the seppies were regrouping and Skywalker had led a scouting party yesterday, found a second droid factory and returned with he and Rex the only survivors. He almost wished that he hadn't extracted that promise from Obi-Wan to stay as long as the healers wanted because he knew that normally his Jedi would be back with him now, supporting their men, tempering Skywalker's recklessness, and making Cody feel like they could overcome anything.

“I'm sorry, Cody,” Obi-Wan said with what sounded like genuine regret. “But at least I know his face now.”

“But you don't remember meeting him?”

“Not really?” Obi-Wan gave a diffident shrug. “His face looked familiar. I feel perhaps I met him at some negotiations.”

Cody stared at him. Took a deep breath and tried to contain the sarcasm. “Oh, really. The Negotiator met someone at some negotiations? That's good. That only narrows it down to about half your waking moments. And since we already know this hut'uun wasn't a battle droid I think it's safe to say we're no further forward.”

Obi-Wan crossed his arms. “That attitude is why Rex says you're spending too much time with me.”

He huffed. “Rex spends too much time with General Skywalker.”

“Really, Cody, I'm going over my reports from the negotiations I was involved in just prior to this whole business starting and cross-checking against delegates' faces. I am doing my best to find this man and put this matter to rest.”

Cody doubted that they had the same idea of what 'put to rest' meant, but he was a little placated at least. “You know that won't work if he wasn't directly involved in the negotiations,” he warned. “For all you know he was a waiter, or a guard or a shuttle pilot.”

“I know,” Obi-Wan agreed. “But it's this or go outside and wait for him to approach me. Which so far he has been reluctant to do.”

Fortunately. He nodded. “Please keep me up to date if you find anything, General. “

“I will. Be careful, Commander. Keep our men safe.”

He stood for a moment after the holo blinked out, breathing in the cool night air and feeling unspeakably weary. Then he walked back into camp to the tent he was sharing with Rex. Surprisingly General Skywalker was waiting inside.

“Sir,” he said, with a nod, and a smart salute.

Rex was looking between the two of them curiously.

“I just wanted to thank you, Cody,” Skywalker said, his hands buried deep in the pockets of his robes.

“Thank me?” he repeated, blinking slightly.

“Yes. I was recently contacted about Obi-Wan and I understand that you're taking care of the current... _situation._ ” He scowled so hard that Cody wanted to warn him that if the wind changed his face would stick that way.

“Trying to, sir,” he said instead.

“Well. Thanks. I know my Master doesn't make it easy. And if anything can go wrong it goes wrong for him.” Impossibly, the scowl deepened. Behind him Rex was frowning. “Anyway, I appreciate it. Here.” He drew his hands out of his robes and produced a bottle of Corellian brandy.

“Thank you,” he said accepting it. If he had to guess this gift had originally been intended for Obi-Wan himself. Well, since Obi-Wan had given him the headache, Obi-Wan might as well provide the cure.

“You're welcome,” Skywalker said with a brief smile that changed almost immediately to a further scowl and a pointing finger. “But you should have told me what was going on the moment you found out.”

It took rather less than half a second for Cody to decide  _ not  _ to point out that he didn't actually need to answer to Skywalker. He nodded crisply instead. “As you say, sir.” 

Skywalker peered at him. “And that isn't any sort of answer. You're clearly spending too much time with Obi-Wan.”

Cody raised an eyebrow. “I'd be more comfortable if that was the case right now.”

“Me too,” Skywalker said with a grimace. “Well, if it comes to it, and you decide to hijack a transport and hightail it back to Coruscant, let me know  _ that  _ at least? I can get us there much faster.” And with that not altogether reassuring thought he nodded to both of them and left the tent.

Rex eyed Cody carefully. “So two questions. One, what's going on with your General, and two, are you planning on sharing that bottle?”

Cody's hand tightened around the bottle neck protectively.

*

_...I tried to see you today, my Obi. I couldn't wait any longer. But they kept me from you. I knew they wouldn't understand. They can't risk you leaving. They can't risk losing you, and so they keep you prisoner behind those Temple walls. They don't deserve you. They will never love you like I love you._

_*_

There was a familiar stabbing pain behind his eyes as he studied the next set of holo images. More representatives and their aides from Bacrides, all of them familiar, none of them his mysterious admirer. And yet he felt as though he was getting closer. If he closed his eyes he could remember standing with these people on a terrace, the smell of zinnia flowers, someone standing just on the edge of his vision…

No. it was gone. And he wasn’t even sure if the memory had been relevant, or if it was just the association with those flowers that his admirer seemed to favour. They weren’t exactly rare throughout the galaxy, unfortunately.

He pressed his knuckles against his temples as though trying to physically push the headache away. It was disheartening to realise he wasn’t quite as fully healed as he had hoped.

He’d been awake all night, hours spent searching through archives interrupted by a desperate call from Master Teyv Ullaven, looking for his advice – or, rather, looking for some clever strategy that would allow her to defend the city without incurring massive casualties. The discussions had lasted hours and he thought – hoped – that between them they had come up with a successful plan, but he didn't know if it would be enough.

Across the galaxy the war was being waged, good men were dying by the score, and he was sitting here with his tea, looking through old holos, trying to track down a man whose greatest ‘crime’ was sending a few mildly intrusive messages. He was the leader of the Third Systems Army. He had responsibilities. He should be out there.

His door chime sounded and he turned round, automatically reaching out with the Force to check who it was, and grimacing when the effort just made his headache worse. Ah. Mace and Yoda. “Come in,” he called.

From the moment they walked in he could tell this wasn't going to be a pleasant social visit. They both wore grim expressions as they looked at him and when Mace spoke it was with heavy formality. “Master Kenobi. It seems there is a threat to your life that you haven't seen fit to make us aware of.”

Really? Did everyone know? Had someone taken out an advert on Holonet News? Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi leads admirer on then fails to handle situation appropriately. He kept his smile open and welcoming. “Good morning Mace, Master Yoda. I was just about to prepare some tea. Would you care for a cup?”

“Serious this matter is,” Yoda warned, his ears drooping.

He turned away to put the kettle on. “I would not describe it as serious, no. Nor would I say that my life has been threatened. And I did not think to inform you because this is a purely personal matter.”

There was a flicker of surprise in the force. “A personal matter? I had assumed there was a new threat from the Sith.”

Ah. Mentally, he grimaced even as he prepared three cups. He shouldn't have assumed that they were fully informed. “No. I would have informed the rest of the Council if that had been the case. But as I said, this is just a personal matter, and a trivial one at that.”

He could feel Yoda's eyes burning into the back of his skull. Running out of things to fiddle with, he turned back around, setting the teapot and cups on the table. They were already sitting, judging him in comfort. “A trivial, personal matter that your commander feels you need an armed trooper escort to deal with?”

He gave Mace an arch look. “You do realise that it is entirely possible that we're all going to be doing everything with an armed trooper escort for the rest of our lives?”

“We don't know how many of the clones are going to want to stay after the war,” Mace pointed out.

“Well, that rather depends on just how sensible the senate is going to be, doesn't it? But more to the point I've heard the way they talk about solo Jedi missions and they are not in favour.”

“That isn't going - “

“ \- the point that was  _ not _ ,” Yoda cut in before Obi-Wan had managed to get them fully embroiled in the Council's current favourite argument; what the world should look like after the war. “Troopers protecting you on Coruscant are. Unusual packages being sent. Questions asked of the Temple Guard. If Sith this is not, explanation we still require.” 

There was one of those he hadn't previously been aware of. “Questions?”

“A man dressed in a brown cloak approached the Temple yesterday,” Mace explained, his eyes fixed on Obi-Wan's face. “He at first tried to enter, apparently under the impression that wearing robes would be enough to get him through the door. When he was challenged he asked about you; specifically about your recovery and whether you were still in the Temple.”

Oh. That did explain the message about trying to see him. He had assumed that had been down to him not leaving the Temple since the other day. Cody might have been right about him encouraging his stalk...his admirer. Attempting to actually enter the Jedi Temple was a worrying new step in this ridiculous spiral. He kept his expression mild. “I'm surprised they didn't alert me.”

Yoda cackled. “Malevolence they did not sense. Thought he was a reporter or a fan of yours, they did. First time for either, it is not.”

He took a deep breath and released it, and did not complain about being forced into becoming the face of the Jedi Order at war. The past could not be changed and dwelling on it was never helpful. “I suppose 'fan' is accurate enough,” he agreed, grudgingly. “I've been receiving messages from this man for a few months now. It appears he's been following me since I've been on Coruscant.”

Mace was frowning deeply. “You say 'this man'...is he a friend of yours? An acquaintance?”

And once again he was having to tell this story. “He appears to know me somewhat, but I admit, his identity remains unclear to me.”

“Could he be an old flame of yours?” Mace suggested, leaning forwards with the same kind of intent look he would give someone else, someone outside of the Order, someone who needed help. “Most stalkers target those they see as former or potential romantic interests.”

Oh, good. The conversation had managed to become _more_ awkward. Who would have thought that was even possible? “There has been no one who fits that description for a number of years.”

They both gave him a long look which he studiously avoided by pouring out the tea for the three of them. “Much stress your life has,” Yoda told him, taking a cup in both hands. “Make time for yourself, you should.”

Force give him strength... “We are not discussing my love life,” he said firmly.

“No,” Yoda said with a snort. “Your lack of love life we are discussing.”

He took a deep breath. “ _ At any rate, _ Cody was concerned and so I allowed him to assign a...protection detail...for his peace of mind.” 

“Cody isn't the type to be concerned over nothing,” Mace pointed out, like he didn't already know that.

“No, but I'm not unduly worried. Like the Temple Guard, I haven't sensed anything malevolent.”

“Seen this man you have?” Yoda asked sharply.

“I've not managed to confront him, but I know what he looks like now,” he said, and he was perfectly serene and confident, but they weren't looking reassured. “The next time I see him I'll be able to approach him and explain this whole situation - “

“ - explain what, exactly?” Mace interrupted.

“...It appears he believes we are in a relationship,” he answered reluctantly, keeping his chin up. “I think if I could just explain to him and apologise for any misunderstandings - “

Unexpectedly Yoda rapped his gimmer stick firmly against Obi-Wan's shin beneath the table. “ - confront him you will not. Apologise you will not. Reach out to your fellow Jedi for aid you should.”

Mace nodded. “Obi-Wan, if the Temple Guard had known to be on the lookout for someone stalking you they wouldn't have allowed him to simply walk away. You should have told us.”

“There's no requirement for me to alert the Council to anything of this nature,” he pointed out. “As I said, it is a personal matter.”

For a long moment Mace just stared at him blankly, growing exasperation in the air.“No, technically there is no rule that you need to tell us when you are in danger,” he agreed before turning to Yoda. “Why does your line insist on making us write down rules that every other Jedi has taken as common sense for century upon century?”

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow. “I'm fairly certain that becoming a Sith was always against the rules, at least by implication.”

Mace gave him a sidelong glance, frustration rippling through his presence in the force. “As is abandoning underage padawans in the middle of a warzone.”

“That's hardly fair,” he said, a second too slow. That wasn't a memory he cared to revisit. Qui-Gon was long dead.

“I apologise,” Mace said sincerity in his voice, and he nodded his forgiveness. “Obi-Wan, you need to tell us everything you can about this stalker of yours.”

“Get off planet, you should,” Yoda interceded.

Oh. That could be the best news he'd heard in a while. “I am fully prepared to head back to the front.” To Anakin and Ahsoka, to Cody and the rest of the 212th.

Yoda glowered. “Suggest it I would, if Master Che's wrath I wished to feel. Asked for you the Governor of Bacrides has. Trouble with infiltrators they are having.”

“They asked for you because of your role in the recent negotiations,” Mace added. “It doesn't appear to be a serious problem; there's been no casualties, I'm not even sure if these infiltrators exist; but in the circumstances, and with you still on light duties, it seems an ideal opportunity. Though make no mistake; you will be taking a squad of troopers with you.”

Of course. More overreactions. “Very well. I will depart immediately.”

Mace held up a hand. “First of all, give a description of this stalker to Master Drallig. Trust your fellow Jedi to handle this situation in your absence.”

“Alone you never are,” Yoda reminded him. “The force is with you, and the Jedi also.”

*

“ _...I'm just waiting for a sign. Give me a single sign and neither of us will ever have to be alone again...”_

*

Apparently there were no ships available for missions that weren't actually urgent, but there _was_ a commercial passenger ship leaving for Bacrides that afternoon. Mace wasn't exactly happy about it, and Wakka and his carefully chosen squad of troopers even less so, but Obi-Wan rather enjoyed the prospect. It was a reminder of times long before the war, back when he had been a padawan and the Jedi were less distant. Of course having more ships available to the Order was a good thing, and the fact that the senate had seen fit to allocate them more money for the purpose was gratifying, but now, sitting on a threadbare sofa looking around this rather stuffy lounge at his fellow passengers, he remembered times when he had been called upon to arbitrate some minor dispute over cards, or had a frazzled parent thrust their child into his arms to keep an eye on 'for just a few moments, Master Jedi', and he felt a pang of loss. There was no sign of that automatic trust and familiarity now; he could see people around the lounge stealing glances towards him, full of awe and nervous apprehension. How had the Jedi become so detached from the people they served...or was it the Jedi? Was it just him? He couldn't be sure. He would need to take time to meditate on this.

Of course, some of the distance could perhaps be explained by the three-man escort of troopers positioned carefully around the lounge. At the captain's request they weren't wearing their buckets but the rest of their armour was in place as usual – a familiar comfort to him, but perhaps sparking a certain apprehension in the people around them. Ah, well, it was a two day trip to Bacrides and that should give their fellow passengers plenty of time to warm up to the troopers.

That was another reason why this journey was advantageous – as was any opportunity for citizens of the republic to see that the clones were people just like them. If there was to be any hope for the future people had to see that the clones were far more than expendable soldiers, and the troopers had to see that there was more available for them than fighting and dying for the republic.

He glanced over at the nearest trooper, a round-faced shiny who kept glancing out the viewport, bouncing on his toes ever so slightly. “Are you doing alright, Gardener?”

Gardener turned towards him quickly, sheepish guilt written clearly on his face. “Fine, General Kenobi, sir, just...” He gestured out towards the stars. “It's only my second time on a ship, sir.”

“You were sent straight to Coruscant from Kamino?” he asked with a smile.

“Yessir. The Temple detachment needed more bodies, and a few of us who were ahead of our batchmates got tapped.”

Ahead of his batchmates...Obi-Wan looked again at the familiar face with the hint of baby fat still clinging to it and carefully didn't ask how old he was. The answer would always be 'too young'. “Do you like Coruscant?”

“It's alright,” Gardener said, discontent clear on his expressive face. “I'm looking forward to seeing somewhere else though. I heard that Bacrides is much more _green_ than Coruscant, is that true, sir?”

“Everywhere is greener than Coruscant,” he smiled. “But yes, I've been to Bacrides before. It is very beautiful. I'll make sure you get a chance to see the gardens while we're there.”

Gardener's eyes widened. “Oh, no, there's no need for you to...I just...that would be very kind, General, thank you. The parks on Coruscant are very pretty, but I've seen holo pictures and there's...” He gestured expansively. “There's just _so much_ out there, sir.”

“A whole galaxy of wonder,” he said lightly. “Have you had a chance to look round the Temple gardens? They always help me when Coruscant starts to feel too crowded.”

Impossibly, his eyes widened even further. “The _Jedi_ Temple? I mean...am I _allowed?_ ”

Ah. He looked straight at Gardener, voice soft and sincere, aware of the listeners. “Go and see the Room of a Thousand Fountains when we get back to Coruscant, you won't regret it. You and all your brothers are always welcome within the Temple.” The troopers were looking at him like he'd just handed over the galaxy tied up in a pretty bow. Obi-Wan paused and smiled brightly. “Well. Perhaps not all your brothers at once. I don't know that we have the room.”

Gardener nodded vigorously, his eyes shining, ignoring or not even noticing the tease. “Yessir. Thank you sir.”

An older man leaned in towards them, seeming amused by Gardener's enthusiasm. “Son, if you're looking for places to visit on Bacrides, you should try the Sunken Oasis. My sister is a horticulturalist there. Here, I'll give you her comm code.”

“Thank you,” Gardener said again, clearly a little overwhelmed.

“Not a problem at all, son. Thank you for your service.”

Obi-Wan smiled and turned towards the viewport as the stars blurred and they slid into hyperspace.

*

_I knew it. You're coming home._

*

Bail had actually been having a rather good day before his chief of security, Robihan Malbarh, put her head around his office door. “Sir. Do you have a minute? It's urgent, I'm afraid.”

“Well, if it's urgent,” he said resignedly, waving her in. He'd been looking at the latest draft of the quarterly budget coming from the Chancellor's office, and truthfully he needed a break before he resorted to banging his head off the desk. “So what's going on?”

She seated herself opposite him, kicking the chair out enough to give her a view of the door and both windows. “You've been sent some rather concerning correspondence.”

He gave the datapad in front of him a rueful glance. “It's not this budget proposal, is it?”

She didn't smile. “Three days ago we received a badly burned garland of flowers addressed to you personally, care of the Senate. This morning it was a box containing a dead tooka.”

Oh. He felt a little sick at the mental picture provided. “Were there any threats? Any indication who this is coming from?”

“We don't have many leads, but there was a message in today's package. 'You don't deserve him. He belongs with me.'” She paused. “Do you have any idea who it could be referring to?”

He shut his eyes for a long moment, suffering from a sudden headache. “Yes. I'm sorry, Robihan, I need to make a call.” He waited until she had left the room, then called Obi-Wan. There was no answer, so he left a message.

“Obi-Wan, it's Bail. I think your stalker has decided to get in touch with me by way of a dead tooka. Give me a call when you get this, okay? I don't care what you say, this is serious.”

*

_You're coming home to me at last._

_*_

The ship came out of hyperspace and immediately lurched hard to the left, an alarm sounding and a voice blaring through the lounge. “All hands report to stations. Repeat, all hands report to stations.”

Obi-Wan was on his feet in an instant. Across the room he could see Wakka and Vic likewise standing, the card game they'd been playing with a group of miners abandoned. “Any idea what's going on, General?”

Instinctively he glanced towards the viewport. “There's a ship out there.” There shouldn't be. This was a well enough travelled route that it was always kept clear of traffic.

“Seppies?” Wakka asked, his hand resting on his blaster. A murmur of fear and concern rippled around the cabin.

“There's been no reports of any trouble in this area,” he answered, loudly enough to be heard by the other passengers. “Perhaps someone is in trouble.”

“Someone who isn't us, you mean?” Wakka said with a sharp grin.

“Quite,” he agreed. “Let's go and find out what's going on.” Even as he spoke he felt a stirring in the Force. Oh, he had a bad feeling about this. Carefully he opened the door and took a look out into the corridor. It was empty, but just then he heard a hoarse voice coming from round the corner, back towards the escape pods.

“Help! Help me, someone, please!”

He looked back towards the troopers, signalling them to follow, trusting them to watch his back as surely as he trusted their brothers. They moved quickly and silently down the corridor and his lightsaber was in his hand as he darted around the corner.

His admirer was standing there.

His admirer was standing there with a manic smile playing across his lips and a blaster pressed firmly into Gardener's neck. The clone didn't appear to be harmed, but his expression was furious and frightened, and there was a large piece of plastape across his mouth.

“Really, now,” Obi-Wan began, his mouth moving practically before he'd had time to think. “There's no need for this, is there? You wanted to talk to me, didn't you? So why don't you put down the blaster and we can talk?”

“I don't have a shot,” Wakka muttered behind him.

No. And Obi-Wan remembered how his admirer had talked about the clones not being real people and he knew the man wouldn't hesitate to pull the trigger, and he couldn't let that happen. No, this was a time for words, not action.

“I knew you would come if I called,” his admirer breathed, his eyes lit up with a strange intensity. “I just knew it. You decided to come back to me, and now we can run away together.”

Even as he was listening, Obi-Wan was searching the man's face intently, begging the force, his memory, _anything_ for the answers he needed. It came to him in a flash. The dinner on the third day of the Bacrides negotiations. He'd been nursing a terrible headache all day, he'd taken a moment to get some fresh air in the gardens, and there had been someone already there. Someone...one of the Minister for Security's aides. He remembered polite conversation – pleasantries about the flowers, nothing more. Nothing that should have _mattered_.

“Jasinn,” he said, as though he'd known the name all along. “If you wanted to see me again, why didn't you just ask?” He couldn't risk anything that might be seen as an outright rejection. Not with Gardener's life at stake.

“I love the way you say my name,” Jasinn said dreamily. “But don't think you can trick me. I'm not stupid, you know. I always knew you wouldn't just come away with me if I asked. You don't know what's best for you. I knew that from the day we met. You were so tired and so pale, and you were still working so hard, trying to take care of all those ungrateful idiots who can't even think for themselves. I knew then you needed me, even if your sense of duty wouldn't ever let you admit it.”

He had to keep playing along. He let his hands fall to his sides, his lightsaber hanging loosely, and he smiled. “Your compassion does you credit. Why don't you tell me what you think is best for me? I promise I'll listen.”

“I'll do better than that,” Jasinn said eagerly. “I'm going to take you somewhere we can be together, just the two of us, and I'll show you. I know you'll resist at first, but eventually you'll come to thank me for it.” He dipped his hand into his pocket and Obi-Wan moved forwards quickly only to stop as the blaster dug deeper into Gardener's neck, causing him to flinch. “Careful. I know you care about these things, and I don't want to upset you, but if you try anything I will shoot it. Now, drop your lightsaber, take two steps forward, and hold your arm out towards me.”

He was holding a hyposyringe.

“And what's in that?” Obi-Wan asked.

“A force suppressor,” Jasinn answered, and he was telling the truth, but not all of the truth. “Like I said, I know you'll resist at first, but I really am trying to do what's best for you. Now, drop your weapon and give me your arm or you'll make me do something I really don't want to have to do.”

“Don't, sir,” Wakka whispered harshly, and he could see the same urgent message in Gardener's frightened eyes.

And really, he shouldn't. He had responsibilities, there were so many people counting on him – so many people who needed him. He was a general and a member of the high council, and he held far more military intelligence in his head than any single trooper.

Except it didn't work that way. _He_ didn't work that way. And this wasn't about the war anyway, this was personal. This was his problem and he should never have let anyone else get involved in it.

He relaxed, breathing out the tension. “Lieutenant Wakka, please pass on my sincere apologies,” he said, and he dropped his lightsaber, stepped forwards, arm held out, and the last thing he felt before the haze descended was the needle piercing his skin.

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter took so long. At present I'm expecting the next one to be shorter so with any luck it won't take as long. Of course I've been wrong about such things before.
> 
> Important trigger warning/note - While there will be NO sexual assault in this story there is some brief discussion/worry about it in this chapter.

Victory had come unexpectedly following a two day battle with the seppies. Pushing forwards immediately had been reckless; if the clankers had managed to regroup any sooner their forward position would have been cut off and Cody would be mourning even more brothers. But Skywalker's gamble had paid off, and they held the planet. Now, if only someone would come out to relieve them so they could get back to Coruscant and Cody's stubborn bantha of a Jedi.

Waxer hurried up to him as he strode towards the med tent. “Commander. Blitz Company's found a mess of tracks five clicks north. Looks like there might be stragglers.”

Of course there were. Couldn't expect it to go all their way, now, could he? “Tell them to sit tight and wait for reinforcements before investigating. We're not losing anyone now the battle's over, not if I can help it.”

“Sure thing, Commander. Ghost Company's had a couple of hours rest now and we're pretty fresh. I'll take the boys and go babysit Blitz.” His eyes narrowed in sudden thought and he glanced between Cody and the med tent. “What are you doing, anyway? Did you get injured in that last scrap? You didn't say anything.” His tone was just on the wrong side of accusatory and Cody raised an eyebrow. “Sir,” he added belatedly.

Cody decided to forgive the insubordination. It had been a long few weeks, after all. “I'm fine. If I was injured I'd have gone to the medics - what do I look like, a Jedi? I just need to get a status check on the wounded.” He took a step into the tent and Helix and Kix exchanged glances before Helix made a beeline for him – a good sign, since in the medic's domain Cody's rank meant nothing next to an injured vod.

Of course, the way Helix's eyes were narrowed _wasn't_ a good sign. “Commander. Tell me you've not been hiding injuries again.” 

He gritted his teeth and ignored Waxer's snort of vindication. “No. I just wanted to check on the wounded.”

Appeased, Helix nodded. “Of course. All of the most critical cases have been evaced. Everyone left is stable. Bridger and Runt are waiting for transport, the rest should be up and about within a day or two. Commander Tano's doing fine, she's been discharged.”

That was good. Tano had got too close to an exploding tank, and though her injuries hadn't been too serious it was still awful seeing a young one hurting like that, no matter how tough she was. It was moments like that which made him glad that General Kenobi didn't have a padawan. He wasn't sure if he could take the stress.

He opened his mouth, ready to go over a few more details when his comm suddenly sounded. It took him a moment to place the anxious-looking brother that appeared in hologram form but when he did his mouth went dry. “Lieutenant Wakka. You have something to report?”

“I'm sorry, Commander. We lost General Kenobi.”

The world around him narrowed to a single point. Around him he could hear shock and outrage building, but he paid it no mind. Rage burned deep inside him. Obi-Wan was missing. Someone was going to pay for this. He was going to get his di'kutla Jedi back, and then _someone was going to pay._

*

A good night's sleep was a memory of the dim and distant past. Every Jedi with a connection to the unifying force found the murk and doubt followed them into their dreams. Even in his own bed in the Temple Mace found himself waking with a sense of lingering dread. This time it didn't go away even as he brewed some caf, fortifying himself to see just how the galaxy had fallen apart while he'd been sleeping.

There were more reports coming in every day. Skywalker had declared victory on Agrora. The fighting continued on Ecury, but Master Ullaven was holding the city for the moment with minimal casualties. The entire Kallos Belt was a disaster waiting to happen and they needed reinforcements on Pythia immediately. And there was a report from Lieutenant Wakka.

The feeling of dread increased. He knew what it would say before he even read it.

He read it anyway.

Force damnit, Obi-Wan.

*

Anger and outrage were rising through the ranks. Wakka's matter-of-fact report had caused enough of a furore that Helix had basically shoved Cody and Waxer out of the medtent and gone to calm his injured brothers who were attempting to get out of bed and go track down their missing General.

Not that Helix blamed them in anyway. He could feel a muscle twitching in his cheek. He'd talked to enough medics in other battalions to know that self-sacrifice was endemic in Jedi culture, but after comparing stories he was convinced that _their_ Jedi was among the worst – if not _the_ worst.

Commander Cody's orders were to carry on as normal while he went off to investigate and, hopefully, brief General Skywalker. Because the uproar in the medtent hadn't been quiet, and he'd had what seemed like half the battalion marching in demanding to know if the rumours were true, and quite a few of the 501st as well. General Skywalker wasn't exactly known for his calm and measured responses. He was going to throw a fit when he heard the news, and if he found out through overhearing trooper gossip...well, that could only make it worse.

“Did you put a tracking chip in him?”

He turned quickly, not having heard anyone approaching, to find Lacey staring intently at him. “That would be incredibly unethical. And illegal.”

She continued staring.

“No,” he said with a sigh, and maybe he was regretting that now. It wouldn't be unethical if the General consented.

“We shouldn't have left him.”

“We didn't have a choice,” he reminded her. “ _He_ gives the orders. And we all get our orders from the Council and the Chancellor anyway.

“I know.” She scowled. “He's gone missing before. He always comes back.”

He patted her arm reassuringly. “Right you are, vod. No-one can keep our Jedi down for long. He'll be back with us before you know it.”

Kriff, he hoped that was true.

*

Anakin desperately wanted this to be a good day. They’d won, and he knew that was down to him - his fighting skills, his orders, his decisions – but there had been casualties. All of Zeta Company had been wiped out in a single moment – he’d heard Rex’s voice crack over the comms, and then that karking tank had blown up and Ahsoka had been pinned so close by….and that was all on him too. His orders, his decisions.

Focus, he told himself, in a voice that sounded a little too like Obi-Wan’s for comfort. There’s no point in losing yourself over what might have been. He needed to pay attention to the future, that’s what the Chancellor always told him. It was a sad fact of life that there would always be casualties in war. What mattered was the end result. They had won and that was what mattered. Although if that _was_ what mattered, you would think that there wouldn’t be a need for so much paperwork. How many after action reports did he really need to write? Surely the Council didn’t need to know every move they had made…or maybe they just wanted to know every move _he_ had made.

He sighed to himself, and Ahsoka looked up at him from the other side of the tent where she was pretending to meditate. The bacta patch on her cheek was like an accusation. Kix had _said_ it wouldn’t scar. He should have taken better care of her. “You alright, Skyguy?”

“Just drowning in paperwork. I swear there’s more of it than ever.”

She gave him a small smile. “That’s because you normally just do it in a rush and get Master Obi-Wan to go over it for you and do it for real.”

Instinctively he wanted to laugh it off but actually that was depressingly accurate. “I don’t mean to but there’s always so much to do,” he defended, before sighing again. “I wish Obi-Wan was here. _Not_ just because I don't want to write these reports.” 

“It is better when we’re all together,” she agreed wistfully.

From outside the tent came the heavy sound of gauntlet meeting vambrace, the trooper equivalent of a knock. “General Skywalker.”

“Come in, Cody,” he called, exchanging a quick worried glance with Ahsoka. He’d last seen Cody a few hours ago and his force presence had been as stolid and calm as ever. Now it was whirling with barely contained frustration and fear. “Has something happened?” he demanded as soon as the clone was through the door.

Cody was holding his helmet under his arm, his brow dark and heavy. “I’ve received word from the troopers who were supposed to be protecting General Kenobi. He’s been taken.”

No! Anakin felt a storm of dread and anger rising up in his chest. “What?! How? When?” he snarled.

Ahsoka was just as quick. “What happened? Was it Ventress again?”

He turned, ready to snap at her because of course it wasn’t, it had to be that sleemo stalker, but her eyes were wide and shocked, and he remembered he hadn’t actually told her about that. He hadn’t wanted to worry her. “Someone’s been following Obi-Wan,” he said instead. “Sending him messages, leaving him gifts…I assume that’s who’s behind this, Cody?”

“It looks that way,” Cody said heavily. “It happened on a transport to Bacrides a few hours ago. We have a name now – Jasinn.

“But I don't understand - if he's not a Sith – if he's just some guy, is he really going to be a problem for Master Obi-Wan?” Ahsoka asked, frowning heavily. “Who would even kidnap a Jedi Master anyway?”

Anakin pursed his lips. “Oh, you'd be surprised,” he said darkly, though he was wondering a bit himself about the 'how'.

“Apparently he was ready for them. General Kenobi was travelling on a civilian ship, and the stalker was already there. He had a force suppressor and another ship waiting.” Cody paused for a moment, struggling, his jaw clenched. “He held a blaster to one of the troopers from the protection detail I'd assigned, a shiny, and he threatened to kill him unless the General submitted to a force suppressor. When the General had passed out he dragged him off the ship.”

A force suppressor alone wouldn't do that. Anakin narrowly resisted the urge to just take out his lightsaber and smash up the tent, imagining Obi-Wan unconscious and helpless in this huttspawn's power.

“Master Obi-Wan went along with that?” Ahsoka sounded shocked.

Anakin wasn't. Clearly, neither was Cody. “Of course he did.” When Anakin found him he was going to kill him. “One of the troopers let this sleemo get the drop on him?” Because of course Obi-Wan was stupid enough to sacrifice himself like that, but the clones were supposed to be there to protect _him,_ not the other way around. 

“I'm sorry, sir.” Cody sounded sorry. And he should; because of one of his brothers, Anakin's brother was...

No. He closed his eyes briefly. It wasn't Cody's fault. It wasn't the troopers fault. It might not even be Obi-Wan's fault, although he was still reserving judgement on that. Someone out there had stalked Obi-Wan for months, making him miserable even if he wouldn't admit it, and now that someone had taken him away and right now...anything could be happening right now.

“I was going to put in a call to the Council immediately,” Cody went on when Anakin didn't say anything. “We all found out separately – we may all have different information to share.”

Anakin wavered. Bacrides was nearby, did they really have _time_ to go through the Council? But Cody apparently hadn’t been asking for permission, let alone an order, and he was already putting a call through.

Mace Windu and Yoda appeared at once, seemingly unsurprised to see Anakin and Cody there. To their credit they both looked concerned, but _concern_ wasn’t going to bring Obi-Wan back safe, was it?

“Knight Skywalker, Commander Cody. Good to hear from you it is. Going to contact you we were – assume about Obi-Wan you have heard?”

“Yes, General Yoda,” Cody said before Anakin could say anything, and if that wasn't a sign of how bad things were – stick-in-the-mud, by-the-book Cody speaking over a General - then nothing was. “Lieutenant Wakka briefed me before the transport made the jump to hyperspace. I believe I might have some pertinent information. General Kenobi received another message from his stalker shortly before the kidnapping – he said 'I knew it. You're coming home.'”

Mace and Yoda sat straighter, and Anakin frowned. “Contact you Obi-Wan did before the kidnapping?” Yoda asked.

Cody was standing to attention and all the disturbances in his force signature were locked away behind steel walls. “No. Through a series of circumstances I currently have access to General Kenobi's comm messages from this man. The General is aware of these circumstances, and I take full responsibility.”

Anakin took a sharp breath, afraid that they were going to lose sight of what mattered over this security breach.

Mace and Yoda exchanged a look. “In the circumstances that's fine, Commander,” Mace said, rubbing at the bridge of his nose. “That message must have been sent once this Jasinn knew where Master Kenobi was going.”

“Hmmm.” Yoda's eyes narrowed. “Though unclear it is how knew he did. Last minute mission was. Public, orders were not.”

“But we know that this...” He swallowed back all the words he wanted to say. “That this man is called Jasinn and he's from Bacrides. Surely that gives us somewhere to start? I could be in Bacrides within the day. The battle is over here, my men can handle the clear-up.”

To his surprise and relief, Mace nodded. “That would be best. We also have a description of him. Hopefully that will be enough to identify him.”

“General Kenobi felt that he had met him during some negotiations,” Cody added. “We can assume those were the ones on Bacrides. That should help too.”

“Thank you, Commander,” Mace said, before turning again to Anakin. “One other thing; how did you find out about the situation in the first place, Skywalker? I assume Commander Cody learned through the unfortunate breach of privacy - “

“ - which discussing we are not,” Yoda interjected at the same time as Cody repeated

“I take full responsibility.”

Mace continued, talking over both of them. “ - but from the way Master Kenobi was talking I don't believe he regarded this threat as threatening enough to have confided in you.”

In other circumstances, and if he was feeling particularly reckless, Anakin might have suggested that Master Windu needed to get some more meditation practice in to deal with the anger and frustration so evident in his voice. In other circumstances he might have laughed at the idea that Obi-Wan would _ever_ confide in him. “No, he didn't. I was informed by...a friend in the senate who had been informed by another friend, although I don't know who that was or how they found out.” 

“Senator Organa,” Cody cut in. “The first message I was privy to contained a picture of General Kenobi and the Senator together. It seems likely that he might have passed on his concerns to a fellow senator and she then contacted General Skywalker.”

“Very good, Commander,” Mace nodded. “We will contact Senator Organa to see if he has any more information and see what information we can find about this Jasinn while General Skywalker heads to Bacrides to investigate and rendezvous with Lieutenant Wakka.”

Anakin stole a glance at Cody standing stiffly next to him. His face was blank and accepting but if he clenched his fists any tighter he'd leave dents in his gauntlets. “I want to take Commander Cody with me,” he said, only a little to his own surprise. “Apparently he's been aware of this situation longest, I think his help would be invaluable.”

Mace and Yoda exchanged another one of those glances that Anakin hated. They were going over his head again. “What's your opinion, Commander?” Mace asked at last.

“Reluctant we are to leave the 212th without either you or Master Kenobi there,” Yoda chimed in, and Anakin couldn't help but feel that was a reprimand aimed at him, somehow. 

“Not a problem, sir,” Cody answered quickly. “I have several brothers ready and able to step up. General Kenobi and I have considered what would happen if both of us were to be unavailable.”

There was a very mild rebuke in Cody's tone. As though it should be obvious that he and Obi-Wan spent their off-hours sitting around discussing contingency plans for if they both died. Who  _thought_ like that? 

“Go then the three of you will,” Yoda said after a moment's pause. “And remember, high priority this matter is, but secret it is also.”

“Why?” Ahsoka asked, leaning into view around him. “If we published a description of this guy, surely someone would recognise him and come forwards, then we could rescue Master Obi-Wan quicker!”

“That might be true, padawan,” Mace said, leaning forwards and looking at her. “But we have to think of the good of the Jedi Order and the GAR before our own personal feelings. We don't want it widely known that you can kidnap a Jedi High General by threatening a trooper.”

Anakin laughed grimly. “I'm pretty sure that's just Obi-Wan.”

Mace looked at him levelly. “No. It isn't. We'll contact you once we have more information. May the Force be with you.”

Right. He took a deep breath and looked at Ahsoka and Cody. “Alright. Let's go get Obi-Wan back.”

  
  


*

Skywalker hadn't been kidding; they really did get there far faster than Cody could have expected. It still didn't feel fast enough – for any of them judging by the way he heard Skywalker muttering under his breath, imploring the Twilight to go faster.

They landed on Bacrides only a few hours behind the transport Obi-Wan had been travelling on. “What was the Council thinking about letting him travel on a civilian transport,” Skywalker muttered as they left the ship. “Even before all this he was a high priority target.”

“Master Obi-Wan is on the Council. I'm sure they thought he would be fine,” Ahsoka said, having to scurry to catch up with Skywalker's long strides.

Skywalker scowled. “But he wasn't.”

“General Kenobi enjoys being around civilians,” Cody offered.

The scowl darkened. “ _General Kenobi_ also enjoys flirting with assassins, jumping out of windows and drinking alcohol that can strip the hull off a Star Destroyer.” 

Unexpectedly Ahsoka giggled, covering her mouth immediately. “Sorry. You sounded like you're writing a holodating profile for him.”

“Before all this I would have said I can't imagine he'd get many takers,” Skywalker huffed. “But apparently those interests appealed to _someone._ ” He stalked off, leaving Cody and Ahsoka to catch up.

“Don't take anything Skyguy says personally, okay?” Ahsoka said, peering up at him. “He lashes out when he's worrying about the people he loves.”

Cody nodded, feeling fairly certain that was about as unJedi-like an attitude as it was possible to get.

When they got round the corner Skywalker was talking into his comm unit - to the Chancellor, no less. His expression was noticeably brighter. Cody had heard they were personal friends. Not that it was any of his business, but he wondered just how Skywalker managed to juggle that, bearing in mind the feelings he'd heard Obi-Wan express in private about the Chancellor. Come to think of it his understanding of Senate politics suggested Senator Amidala wasn't the man's biggest fan either. Perhaps Skywalker was better at keeping the political and the personal separate.

Palpatine's smile was wide and genial enough. “Anakin, my boy. I've been trying to reach you. I'm afraid I have troubling news.”

“About Obi-Wan? I've heard.”

Cody was very good at reading micro-expressions - the way he'd grown up it could mean the difference between life and death for he and his brothers - and for a split second he was certain that the Chancellor was disappointed. Well, some people just liked spreading bad news.

“That's good. I was afraid the Council wouldn't think to keep you informed. I know they feel that attachments, such as yours to Master Kenobi, are inappropriate.” 

Cody was glad his face was hidden under his helmet. From his understanding of what Jedi meant by 'attachment' that was a serious accusation. He stole a glance over to see how Ahsoka was taking it, but she was looking out across the concourse impatiently, not listening in at all – which was probably technically the right thing to do when your superiors were having a conversation, but Cody had never liked being out of the loop.

Skywalker finished up his call, somehow managing to appear even more frustrated and on edge than he had before. “Come on, let's go.”

Lieutenant Wakka and his small squad were waiting in the hanger for them. Small knots of Bacridian officials hurried around them nervously and at the sight of the three of them approaching one woman was pushed forwards. “Master Skywalker, it is an honour to meet you, even under such dreadful circumstances,” she said with an audible gulp. “We – the people of Bacrides – owe a great deal to Master Kenobi, and to hear he's gone missing while on the way to return to our planet is terrible indeed.”

Skywalker looked her over briefly. “One of your citizens is most likely to blame.”

“Yes, yes,” she nodded. “The Jedi Council has contacted us and we have people searching through the records even as we speak. Most diligent people. I'm sure we'll learn more any time now and you will, of course, be informed immediately. In the meantime is there anything we can do to make you comfortable? The accommodations that were intended for Master Kenobi are entirely at your disposal, and we have reserved another room for your padawan. We've also compiled all the evidence gathered about the infiltrators that Master Kenobi was here to track down. I don't know if you're going to look at it...” She trailed off hopefully.

“Master Obi-Wan's travel arrangements must have got out _somehow,_ ” Ahsoka spoke up.

“Good point,” Skywalker said with a crisp nod. “Alright, Snips. You can go and check that out while me and Cody look over the ship and interview the troopers.”

By the expression on her face that hadn't exactly been what Ahsoka had in mind, but she nodded and went with the officials while Cody and Skywalker finally approached the troopers.

They snapped to attention immediately, all crisp salutes and barely-hidden dread. “Sirs,” Wakka said, his attention divided between the two. “I failed to protect General Kenobi. I'm sorry.”

He saw the way General Skywalker's shoulders tensed. “Report, soldier,” he ordered harshly. “From the beginning.”

It was much the same story Cody had heard before. “And General Kenobi addressed this man by name?”

“Yessir,” Wakka nodded. “Just dropped it in there, smooth as you like. If I didn't know better I'd think he'd known it all along.” He took a deep breath. “We know he was travelling under a false name – we checked the passenger manifest. A Largo Tomasz got on the transport at Coruscant and never got off.”

Interesting. That would mean a false ID and just like confidential information  _someone_ would have had to supply him with that. 

“But Obi-Wan didn't try to pass along any other message?” Skywalker cut in. “No other information?”

“No, sir,” Wakka said. “Like I told Commander Cody, all he said was to 'pass on his sincere apologies' when he let that hut'tuun take him.”

“When he traded his life for _your trooper_ you mean,” Skywalker said, his gaze fixed on Gardener, and damn it, the shiny was young. Who was letting them off Kamino at that age? The kid didn't even look full grown and his gaze was fixed on the floor like he was hoping it might just swallow him up.

“Just so, sir,” Wakka answered. “I did try to stop him, sir. I...no-one wanted him to do that. No-one expected him to do that.”

Except everyone expected him to do that. Even this delusional shabuir had known what Obi-Wan would do. Oh, their General was a master tactician. He knew better than to trade one life for another, or to give the enemy what they wanted...unless what they wanted was  _him_ in which case he'd give himself up with a kriffing smile. Someone, some time in the past had failed to teach Obi-Wan what his life was worth, which was pretty ironic considering that was one of the lessons he was so eager to impart on Cody and his brothers. “It's not your fault, Lieutenant,” he said. “That was the General's decision.” 

Skywalker snorted his disagreement. “What I don't understand is how the situation came about in the first place. How did this  _civilian_ manage to get the drop on one of you clones? Aren't you supposed to be well trained?” 

It took a moment before Gardener seemed to realise General Skywalker was addressing him. “Sorry, sir. He, uh, caught me coming out of the fresher, sir. I opened the door and there was a blaster to my neck. I couldn't...I didn't have a chance to do anything, sir. I'm sorry. I would rather have died than get the General in trouble.”

“But you didn't and now Obi-Wan is missing,” Skywalker snarled. “We have no idea where he is, or what's happening to him, and it's all your fault.” His voice was growing more strident. Gardener looked sick. “Maybe we should send you back to Kamino, you're obviously defective. Maybe - “

“ \- _General Skywalker._ ” Cody didn't raise his voice. He'd learned enough from his Jedi to know he didn't need to. It was all about tone and presence. 

Sure enough, Skywalker whirled round to face him, his eyes wide.

“Perhaps it would be best if you went and checked out the bunk where our kidnapper was staring,” he suggested in a way that wasn't a suggestion at all. “Maybe we'll get lucky and there's a clue there.”

He could imagine Obi-Wan chiding him.  _There's no such thing as luck._ He pushed the thought away. If there was no luck then clearly the Force hated them. 

Skywalker nodded stiffly and turned on his heel and walked out.

The troopers were staring at him with varying levels of shock and disapproval. Right. They had just watched him order a General around. He tilted his head, daring any of them to comment. He'd earned his rank and all the weird shit that came with it. “Is there anything else?” 

“Uh, the General's lightsaber, sir,” Wakka said, gingerly holding it out.

Cody took it, and for a moment he let the familiar weight comfort him. He'd carried this for his Jedi before. He'd given it back before, and he clipped it to his belt. He would give it back again, once he had Obi-Wan back safe. Just like always.

He looked at the troopers evenly. “You screwed this up. You don't need me to tell you that. I don't blame you for not being able to stop General Kenobi. But you should have checked out all the passengers and crew at the very least. No way this di'kut should have been able to hide out on the ship and ambush you without your knowledge. You all failed. You let me down and you let General Kenobi down. Remember, the Jedi need us to watch their backs.”

He could see in their faces that wasn't a lesson they were likely to forget. Guilt and apprehension clung to them and he remembered what Skywalker had threatened. “You'll be shipped back to Coruscant shortly,” he said, like it was a punishment, not a reassurance. “Do better next time.”

“Sir,” Gardener dared to protest. “If there's a mission to rescue the General we – I mean, I think we'd all like to be a part of it.”

Cody wasn't altogether surprised to hear the faint hint of hero-worship in the shiny's voice. No doubt Obi-Wan had taken an interest in the kid. He knew well the effect being the centre of his Jedi's attention could have. “We'll see,” he said, nodding to them before he headed into the ship after Skywalker.

He found him in one of the larger cabins, sitting hunched on a bed, staring at the bunk opposite – the one that had been assigned to 'Largo Tomasz'. He had been witness to the aftermath of some of Skywalker and Obi-Wan's arguments before, and he'd listened to Rex venting often enough. He knew that Skywalker generally preferred to move on by pretending nothing had happened.

“Odd that someone who can afford a fake identity would choose to travel so publicly,” Cody said neutrally. “It wouldn't be my choice if I was planning a kidnapping.”

There was no immediate response.

“Sir?” he tried.

“I didn't mean what I said to that trooper.” As he watched Skywalker's gloved fist clenched and unclenched. “You know that, don't you Cody? I'm just worried about Obi-Wan. It's...normally I can feel him through the Force. Just enough to know that he's _there_ and alive. But now there's nothing. He might as well not exist.” 

He took a deep breath and spoke carefully. “I can't say I understand, General Skywalker. But I miss him too. We'll get him back.”

Skywalker stood abruptly and paced across the cabin, pausing in front of the bunk. “But will we get him back in time? I can't feel him and that means he's still under the suppressor. For all we know he's still under the sedative too. Even Obi-Wan can't fight while he's unconscious. He's helpless and at the mercy of that...that animal who's obsessed with him.” He gave a visible shudder, his hands pressed tight against the bulkhead, like he was resisting the urge to punch it. “I keep thinking about all the things he could be doing to him.” He exhaled sharply, the pain clear in his voice. “Oh,  _Obi-Wan._ ” 

Cody had been trying very hard not to think about it. All those awful what-ifs were firmly shoved to the side. What mattered right now was finding his Jedi. The rest could wait. Skywalker needed something now though. “I've seen a lot of the messages. There was nothing overtly sexual in them.”

“Right,” Skywalker said with a short, hollow laugh. “Maybe he just kidnapped my Master to cuddle with him. Maybe. But if he's...if he's laid a finger on him, sith, if he's even _looked_ at Obi-Wan wrong then I'm going to tear him limb from limb and I won't even need to use my lightsaber to do it.” He turned round slowly, his fixed gaze burning through Cody's helmet. “That's why I wanted you along. Worst comes to worst I want you to get Ahsoka out of the way. There are things she doesn't need to see.” 

He felt his jaw clench. Felt the fire burning inside. “No.”

Skywalker stared at him. “No?”

“No.” In two strides he'd closed the distance between them. “If we track them down and find that Obi-Wan's been sexually assaulted then _Obi-Wan_ is your top priority because _that's what you do for your brother!_ ” Just saying the words brought a solid wave of nausea rushing over him and Skywalker flinched like he'd been punched. “He'll need you. He'll need us. Kill the hut'uun, sure, but that's not what's important. Do I make myself clear?” 

“Yes,” Skywalker said in a whisper, his eyes miserable and lost.

“Right.” Without thinking about it too much he reached out and patted him on the shoulder. “We will find him, General. If he doesn't find us first. We both know better than to underestimate General Kenobi. Now come on. Time's wasting.”

*

Ahsoka sifted through the assortment of datapads impatiently. There had to be something there. Please let there be something there.

The Bacrideans had a long list of suspects for their supposed conspiracy, but she was concentrating on the ones that could conceivably have known that Master Kenobi was coming. If this was all connected they were the only ones who could have passed the information onto the kidnapper – which would mean that there had to be a link between them. Maybe they'd even supplied the kidnapper with the false papers. And really, it would make sense for separatist sympathisers to want Master Obi-Wan out of the way. Look how much turmoil his kidnapping had caused already.

She hoped he was alright. She closed her eyes and imagined his warm smile as he told her to focus. The war had been going on for her entire apprenticeship. She had seen more terrible things than she could count. Both Anakin and Master Obi-Wan had been badly hurt before, and while she wouldn't say she was used to it this was still somehow different. Because this wasn't about the war, or politics, or revenge, or the Dark Side or anything like that. This was someone who thought he loved Master Obi-Wan and thought that somehow gave him the right to  _take_ him and  _keep_ him. Like he was just an object – a possession. 

A noise made her look to the door, her hand hovering over her 'saber – but it was just Anakin and Cody arriving. “You've been busy, Snips.”

“Skyguy! Is there any news?”

He shook his head heavily. “Nothing yet.”

“I'll put some caf on,” Cody said, walking past them into the kitchen. He hadn't even removed his helmet. “Unless either of you would prefer tea?”

There was a moment of awkward silence. “No. No, caf's fine,” she said, once it was clear Anakin wasn't going to say anything.

Just then Anakin's comm sounded. “It's the Council,” he announced, and she felt a stirring of hop. Maybe they had a lead. Maybe they'd found Master Obi-Wan.

Master Windu's flickering image looked stern and maybe a little more tired than usual, she thought anyway. “Knight Skywalker. We've learned that there was a Jasinn Moreen at the negotiations Master Kenobi conducted six months ago.”

Moreen...she gave a loud exclamation and dived back into her datapads. She had definitely seen...there! Triumphantly she darted into view of the comm call alongside Anakin. “There's a Permanent Secretary  _Hedo_ Moreen among the list of potential separatist spies,” she declared. “Maybe she was the one who passed on the information! Maybe she knows where Master Obi-Wan is being kept!” 

“That sounds like the best lead we've got right now. Well done, padawan.” He looked at her kindly.

Anakin and Master Windu started discussing approaches and logistics and Ahsoka beamed across the apartment to where Cody was standing holding the caf pot.

They were going to find Master Obi-Wan. They were going to bring him home.

 


End file.
